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Topic: Cold Plains (Read 27976 times)

The Cold Plains get their name from the fast harsh winds that sweep across them from the northwest, bringing a damp chill to everything except during the height of summer. Typical high is 10-12 C, typical low is 2-3 C, and it's almost always overcast. There are very few trees here. The land is dominated by grass and low-lying shrubs and sprawling weeds. What farms exist are small gardens protected from the wind by short stone walls, and of course all dwellings were abandoned when the demons came. Some small boulders dot the landscape, but they have been worn smooth by the wind. Goat herding found some success on this wind-blasted grassland, but with Andariel's arrival the goats mutated into demonic humanoid forms, and turned upon their masters, killing the men and violating the women with bestial savagery. Corrupted rogues, driven mad by Andariel's influence, stalk the plains in small hunting parties, often naked and shrieking, attacking anyone they see who has not yet fallen under the Spider Queen's spell. Diabolically endowed quill rats infest the plains in the absence of human hunters, and the ever-present undead walk openly in direction-less throngs. Fallen here are in much denser groups, and often supported by shamans, whose perverse magic can bring dead Fallen back to life to fight ever on.

The rogues have placed a forward sentry named Flavie to barricade the narrow footpath between the Cold Plains and the Blood Moor, to stop these horrors from getting close to the rogue camp. Flavie, a tall Scottish redhead and one of the camp's best archers, warns direly against the dangers of the Cold Plains, and forbids anyone from venturing further until they've proven their mettle.

(This area is locked until the Den of Evil is completed - a second post will provide more detail about the area's points of interest)

Flavie's camp consisted of a small tent surrounded by short wooden stakes that had been positioned on an angle to stop creatures coming out of the Cold Plains to the west from entering the Blood Moor in the east. To the south was a flooded quagmire that fed out into the sea. The water was shallow but the fine mud silt at the bottom acted like quicksand to make wading through it near impossible. To the north was a mess of dense thorny shrubbery that defied progress through it. Thus, the footpath where Flavie was encamped served as a fine choke point to prevent demons from invading the Blood Moor in force. The smaller ones, meaning the Fallen and corrupted quill rats, had been able to sneak individually through the thickets in the north while zombies had trudged their way underwater in the south. But the goat men, corrupted rogues, and larger packs of fallen would necessarily need to use the footpath, where Flavie was waiting for them.

Tripwires, snares, and hidden pits were scattered about the western side of the barricade, rigged to a bell that would alert Flavie if demons were approaching. Arrows were arranged about the east side of the camp, stuck into the ground in clusters of twenty, ready to be plucked and nocked in an emergency. While Flavie carried a quality hunting bow on her, there was also a spare lying in the corner in case she broke a string in a pinch. Hand axes and hammers were also leaned up near the tent, though they were more likely there as tools for manipulating the stakes in the ground than for use as weapons. In another world, the combination of archers and stakes in the ground had served King Henry V well against a superior force.

A small cooking fire was letting a stream of smoke up into the night sky. Flavie was crouched beside the fire, bow slung over her back. Her attention was split between looking down the path to the west, and tending to the tail of a quill rat that she was roasting on a skewer over the flame along with an carrot that one of the other rogues had brought her from the main camp. Dirt covered her cheeks and hands, a sure sign that Flavie had been out here for a long time without a bath.

Cool wind from the Cold Plains made Larisa shiver when she approach Flavie’s camp. She was here first time and was impressed by a scale of fortifications prepared against monsters. She also jittered before meeting with the redhead Rogue. Younger Sisters worshiped her courage and skills and dreamed to become like her one day. They treated her like a hero and felt favored if she spoke to them. Larisa’s admiration toward Flavie grown even higher now, when she saw for herself hard conditions the wardress had to deal.The blonde came along with respect and waited politely as Flavie noted her presence.‘May Sightless Eye bless you Sister. It’s a great honor to meet you. Commander Kashya sent me here with a mission and I have also important information about a demons’ nest in the Blood Moor. I would like to ask you for advices.’

Flavie's emerald eyes had turned up from the fire when Larissa was still at least twenty yards out, such was the quality of night vision possessed by the more skilled rogues in camp. It also helped that the moonlight reflected from the exposed skin on Larissa's neck and chest, that pushed her corset forward so noticeably. Every time the rogue's bosom bounced, it was like a signal to Flavie, alerting her of the younger one's presence.

The hardened rogue glanced westward briefly, into the darkness of the Cold Plains, and back to Larissa. "Did she, now...", the squatting ranger replied, a little bit of skepticism in her tone. With an open right palm, she motioned towards the fire. "Well, here I am, what d'you want to know?", she asked, a faint Scottish brogue upon her lips, "Did yer mission involve bringin' me any supplies?" The rogue's lips were curled into a cheeky grin, as she could see clearly that Larissa was not carrying much upon her person.

It was perhaps a Scottish thing that highlanders always seemed to find themselves posted where the fighting is the toughest; perhaps by personal choice, but more likely by the will of their English commanders...

Larisa hadn’t taken much equipment, wanted to travel as fast and discreet, as she can. Every redundant load would slow her down and expose on foes’ ambush. She took out from a bag two apples, three pieces of salted meat and bottle of ale and gave them to Flavie. Then she sat near the campfire, pulling her knees to breasts.‘I’m sorry to disappoint you. Actually, my mission concerns with solution of the goatmen problem. We heard in camp from the scouts, that new chieftain appeared among demons. He seems more cunning and depraved than normal one, and won many battle for leadership. We worry, that he would unite clans in more organized structure and lead them to battle. As dealing with him in direct combat could be difficult, I, as a sniper, was assigned to assassinate the chieftain and his closest subordinates. I have done similar quests before, eliminating Fallen shamans. Further, Commander ordered me to find a teleportation device in the Cold Plains, as it will increase mobility of our warriors.’ Larisa stopped and moved slightly closer to fire.‘What concerns me – traveling through the Blood Moor, I discovered a cavern, surrounded by evil aura. I have seen traces of a beast and Fallen, but I sensed that something more corrupted, some litter from the Hell, used to live there too. I felt, I should tell you about my find.’

Flavie motioned to the meat she was cooking, as if to offer it in trade for Larisa's fresh fruit. She looked frequently out into the west while she listened to the other rogue's report.

"Twas home to a gang of thieves 'fore the demons came. The Sisters never came this far out, as ye know, so the bandit gangs had the run of the land", Flavie noted softly, still staring out at the moonlit plains. She finally turned her head back to look at Larisa. "Ah that's not good, if the demons are using it as a gathering point", she sighed with pursed lips, "Ye need to tell Kashya about this. Who knows 'ow many they got hidin' in there? We need to hit 'em in force!"

Flavie glanced back out at the darkness again, briefly, and added to Larisa, "Leave the waypoint to me, lass. I know it's somewhere close by, but I hear the damn goats bleatin' every night. They're just waitin' to catch one of us out in the open. Better ye stay away until we've shored up this side o' my camp", and she hooked a thumb eastward at the Blood Moor.

‘However I’d like better go to the Plains and erase this vermin from our realm, I will obey your advices. I’ll try to investigate the cave further, to give the Commander a more complete report. When we do away them, I will return and complete my primary task. Maybe with a waypoint active it would be less risky.’ Larisa rose and prepared to leave. ‘Next time I’ll bring you more supplies’ she smiled. ‘Farewell, Sister. I wish you luck.’

A chilling sensation raced across Cynthia's skin, the feeling of death without a doubt is very much present in this dark and forsaken grassland, she cautiously moved so as not to attract the attention of corrupted rogues, her goal here is to get the head of a powerful fallen shaman named Bishibosh in order to test her knowledge of the arcane and to prove to her order that she is capable of taking down champions. But of course, Cynthia also has other motives aside from exchanging fights.

While moving carefully through the grassy plains, she saw from afar a camp full of fallen shaman in different colors, there are 3 who sport colors other than red, one had a light blue skin, the other had violet skin and the ugliest and meanest of the three had green skin.

Cynthia quickly ruled out that the green one is Bishibosh himself, surrounded with 3 ordinary fallen shaman and 2 champion fallen shamans. Without hesitation, Cynthia approach Bishibosh's camp and ridiculously tries to communicate with them.

Cynthia: "Greetings magnificent foul bastards, what seems to be the occasion here?" Standing her staff with her right hand and waits for their reply with a hollow bravado.

« Last Edit: June 04, 2013, 09:29:01 pm by little_iveta »

Logged

"The Master told his pupils, "Forget being taught and concentrate on learning. When you're sure, question everything." - Book of Cataclysm

(Normally I require that anyone entering the Cold Plains go through Flavie's camp first. But since this seems to be your character's first post, and since I'm dying to get some Cold Plains action in, I'll allow that Cynthia started in this zone without ever passing through the Rogue Encampment. Just remember this caveat before trying to go anywhere else)

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Geography of the Cold Plains:There is a worn dirt path that extends westward from the Blood Moor towards the Stony Field further west. About a quarter mile into the Cold Plains, it forks southwards, with the south fork leading into the Burial Grounds. There are lots of interesting things to see in the Cold Plains, which I've broken up into geographic zones roughly 200 metres wide. In order to reach a given zone, you have to first RP your way through adjacent zones, where I might throw random monsters at you. The zones are:- Flavie's Camp (Blood Moor entrance)- East Path (west of Flavie's Camp)- Northeast Field (due north of East Path)- Abandoned Garden (due south of East Path)- Crossroads (due west of East Path)- Northern Field (due west of Northeast Field, northwest of Crossroads)- Near West Path (due west of Crossroads, southwest of Northern Field)- Near South Path (due south of Crossroads, west of Abandoned Garden)- Far West Path (Stony Field entrance, due west of Near West Path)- Far South Path (Burial Grounds entrance, due south of Near South Path)- Northwest Field (north of Far West Path, west of Northern Field, contains an abandoned house and goat pen)- Southeast Field (Bishibosh's camp, due south of Abandoned Garden, east of Far South Path)- Southwest Field (Cave entrance, south of Near West Path, west of Near South Path)- Creepy Shrine (due west of Southwest Field, south of Far West Path)- Abandoned House (due south of Southwest Field, west of Far South Path)

Either Bishibosh and his ilk did not speak English, or else chose not to. Or perhaps simply had no interest in talking to a lone human. The two champions replied by immediately pointing their ram-skull-tipped staves at Cynthia and each of them conjured a ball of yellow flame that sailed slowly towards Cynthia, sparklers flying off into the night air like the pyrotechnic toys by the same name. "BI-SHI-BOSH!!", they both shouted in unison with equal bravado.

The three fallen that had been standing around were surprised to see a human appear so suddenly and so close to their camp, despite the patrols they regularly sent outwards to scour the plains for such interlopers. A sharp command from the 'bosh himself made them jump in fear, and they rushed forward to engage Cynthia, following behind the two magical projectiles like riflemen behind a tank. One brandished a double-sided throwing axe in both hands, another carried a spiked club, and the one in the center had both of his hands full with a long rusty knife in one and a torch in the other.

The green-skinned shaman moseyed slowly away, leaving his minions to fight the battle for him, while more Fallen warriors rushed out of the camp and surrounding darkness to assist. Some came from behind boulders, some from inside crude animal-skin tents, and some seemed to have been wandering aimlessly in the dark nearby. There were over a dozen in total who answered the call of battle, and they were followed by three shamans who moved a bit more slowly, but swaggered with an unshakable confidence that came from being in proximity to their revered leader.

Back at the camp, which was about fifty metres away, at least two dozen more little bodies milled about the arrayed tents and chests and fire pits, shouting at each other to wake up, as they had seen the brilliant fireballs from afar. There also appeared to be the form of a naked blonde woman held to the ground by a chain leash around her neck, such that she was unable to stand, though details were hard to make out at this distance. It appeared that this was what Bishibosh was seemingly in a hurry to get back to while his minions dealt with the human intruder. She may have caught him away from camp taking a post-coital piss, but he would be damned if he would let that interruption ruin his perfectly good hard-on.

When Cynthia got a rude response instead of a warm welcome from the natives she did not immediately responded with hostility but instead showed the creatures of her ballsy stature, she stood still, not moving a muscle and as the firebolts were about to hit her she casts Chilling armor & Energy Shield almost simultaneously and lets the balls of fire hit her as she knew that her Chilling armor wound reflect ice bolts to those fallen warriors who were behind the firebolts trail.

And of course the expected happened as the fallen warriors received the price of their chief's folly, each of the fallen warriors took hits and were slowed down by the cold effects of the ice bolt. Without a second thought, Cynthia cast a glacial spike to the fallen warriors so as not to kill them quickly but to make them froze where they stood, their close proximity to each other has made it easier for Cynthia to cast the glacial spike only twice.

And when more of them are coming she simply repeats the casting to them, freezing them in place helplessly. Cynthia shattered one of the fallen warriors to make an example that their powers are beneath her arcane ego.

After that short warm up, Cynthia insulted the lowly fallen shamans that were overseeing the battle, "Oh, that's got to hurt, can you revive him even he is now in ice cube pieces?"

To add the insult, Cynthia leaned her elbow on the head of a helpless frozen fallen warrior, and rubs her armpit on the forehead, after that she stood in front of him and moves her chest closer to his face, then Cynthia continues to spew more insults.

Cynthia: "Are you just going to stand there and not give your frozen kin some helping hand?"

Logged

"The Master told his pupils, "Forget being taught and concentrate on learning. When you're sure, question everything." - Book of Cataclysm

Review this thread first: http://houseeros.com/roleplay-role-playing-forum/index.php?topic=27875.01. You don't get to decide whether or not your attacks are successful2. You only get a few seconds to act before someone might interrupt, so be careful about how long it takes to say things.3. To assume the monsters don't interrupt you is effectively to control them, which is not allowed4. I'm going to nerf the effectiveness of your spells to keep them in line with the expected power level

Of the two ice bolts fired by Cynthia's shield, one struck the club-carrying Fallen in the shoulder and spun him until he fell face first on the ground with a surprised cry and sprawled out dead. The other ice bolt passed between the two Fallen who were beside him, and sailed back towards the blue-skinned shaman, who weaved sideways with a high-pitched growl to evade it.

The glacial spike that followed struck the two Fallen warriors who were still standing, and froze their feet to the ground, coating their red skin in a layer of frost and making icicles form on their noses and chins.

The other Fallen who were rushing to the scene were too far out and too numerous to control in the same way. The glacial spike projectile moved just as slowly as the fireballs the shamans had tossed at her, and cost about five times as much mana per casting. Most of the Fallen swiftly skirted around the spikes as they continued their advance, except for one who was seemingly not paying attention and walked right into the ball of freezing mist. The impact caused the warriors immediately surrounding him to flinch and cower, while the ones farther away pressed on, drawing closer but staying spread out, so as not to repeat the mistake of their more eager comrades.

As Cynthia taunted her enemies, the purple-skinned champion unleashed another fireball in her direction, not seeming to care how close she was standing to his own underling. The blue-skinned one, still recovering his balance from dodging that ice bolt, rattled his weapon in the air threateningly, which was a machete with a chipped and jagged blade. The other, weaker shamans, still too far away to raise their downed minions, continued waddling forward and croaking grumpily to each other in their own language.

Bishibosh continued on his way back to the camp center, putting a couple waves of Fallen in between him and the arrogant human.

As the violet skinned champion shaman hurled a fire bolt again to Cynthia, she didn't bother dodging it so she just took the hit like before but as soon as Cynthia is about to cast another round of glacial spike to the rushing squad of fallen warriors, she is surprised to find out that she could not cast a shot, she realizes that her mana reserves were emptied by the energy shield that blocked the fire bolt in exchange for her remaining mana, also she just learned that her chilling armor was exhausted as she took the first volley of fire bolts recently and that's why the energy shield took place in shielding her but unfornuately her energy shield is now rendered useless as she consumed most of her mana in casting rounds of glacial spikes before. Adding the worse is that she didn't brought with her some mana potions which are very essential for novice magicusers, her ballsiness brought her in a dilemna. Cynthia having ran out of options immediately decides to give the fallen warriors a fair fight using her staff instead of sprinting away to look for a mana shrine or a well, because she knew if she just withdraw from Bishibosh's territory she would get into more trouble by drifting into the corrupted rogues territory and going there is not a part of today's missions, for they are known on their trademark lethality against neophyte sorceresses. She hopes that at least Bishibosh himself would be "more forgiving" than them if in case things go for the worse.

"To hell with this!" Cynthia curses this predicament as she engages the fallen warriors in melee, but of course she is not used in displaying her physical martial prowess with her staff as she is not trained in dancing with an enemy up close and most of all, they out number her.

She did some awkward movements as she whips a fallen warrior but its clearly obvious that she is not doing well, fallen warriors may look ridiculous but it doesn't mean they are senile in handling swordfights.

« Last Edit: June 06, 2013, 08:33:06 pm by little_iveta »

Logged

"The Master told his pupils, "Forget being taught and concentrate on learning. When you're sure, question everything." - Book of Cataclysm

The fireball that exploded against Cynthia's shield had the side effect of thawing out the frozen Fallen warrior that she had been taunting.... right before knocking him off his feet and killing him. The resulting ice bolt sailed swiftly back towards the purple skinned shaman champion, but he had already moved to the side far enough not to be struck by it.

The blue skinned champion, recovering his balance, raised his staff in the air, which glowed and filled the dead warrior with healing energy, causing him to stir and push his hands against the ground to start getting back up.

While the Fallen did outnumber her, Cynthia still had the advantage of mobility for now, as they were loosely spread out to avoid her magical assault that they didn't yet realize had become depleted. She also had the advantage of outreaching their small arms with her staff. Her first strike thus swiftly knocked her first opponent on the head while he was too far away to counterattack. This sent the little demon sprawling on the ground with his axe flying out of his hand. Four Fallen who had been closing in on Cynthia jumped in fright and ran away from her, gibbering in panic.

Five more warriors came rushing at her from further out, surrounding her on 180 degrees in a shallow arc and shouting a rallying cry in their language that sounded like someone choking on their food.

Showing a splendid lack of co-ordination, one of the lesser shamans unleashed a fireball in Cynthia's direction from about sixty feet away, but it would take a few seconds before it would reach her. The shamans in general seemed to be watching how well their underlings fought before deciding whether to intervene more personally.

As Cynthia successfully hit the fallen warrior with her staff, she haven't thought that could be simple as well. Her ego once again fills her head when she saw the four other fallen warriors flee for their lives, Cynthia taunts them back: "Yeah, you little rascals can run, better tell your boss to come out instead of wanking inside his tent."

But as soon as five more fallen warriors surrounded her, her ego suddenly died out and she was filled terror this time, facing the five of them simultaneously might be a losing battle but what choice does she have? Cynthia took the initiative recklessly in striking the first blow, she did the exact awkward movement like before, taking advantage of the short reach of their arms, with luck, she might hit their heads just like on the first one.

Logged

"The Master told his pupils, "Forget being taught and concentrate on learning. When you're sure, question everything." - Book of Cataclysm

This time the warrior that Cynthia attacked was more alert, and raised his hatchet to defend himself. Cynthia's staff struck the haft of the little demon's weapon and caught under the hook of the blade momentarily. The brief half-second lock-up delayed her movement just long enough for the two Fallen on the edges of the group to lunge in unison: the one to Cynthia's right jabbing a dirk upwards towards her belly, and the one to her left swinging a knotty shillelagh at her thigh with the strength of both hands. The one who had just recently been raised from the dead by the nearby shaman champion snuck quickly up behind her and tried to grab her ankle, ducking low to the ground in fear of retaliation from her staff.

While the three fallen assaulted her at once, and the fourth stumbled back to defend himself from her attack, the remaining two glanced over their shoulders as they heard the whooshing sound of the approaching fireball, and quickly dived to the ground and covered their heads to avoid the ball of flaming gas as it sailed slowly towards the melee. This caused the purple skinned champion to let out a vicious cackle, seeming to find a great deal of cynical humour in the awkward plight of his warriors.

Farther away, Bishibosh had gotten close enough to the camp to call out to the human woman he had been keeping chained there. He raised his sword in the air: a bronze gladius, perhaps centuries old, that was completely green from corrosion. With a red glow that seemed to cover her naked body, the captive human found herself released from her bonds, and a six foot spear was pushed into her hand by a nearby carver who then pointed at Cynthia and barked an order in the demon tongue. The woman was almost as tall as her spear, with messy blonde hair down to her chin that was caked in mud. Her naked body was covered in circular red tattoos that glowed from time to time in the darkness of night, and mud covered her knees and hands and elbows, from the time she had spent on all fours up until now. At once, she took off in a jog towards Cynthia's position while Bishibosh called out several orders to his shamans.

When Cynthia's staff jammed in the hook, it took her a couple of seconds to withdraw it, this gave the other two fallen warriors an opportunity to strike her, cutting her blouse and trousers as well as giving her a minor flesh wound on her belly and thigh, she groaned in pain, feeling their crude sharp blades against her soft flesh was quite unbearable. Upon losing her focus, she turned infuriated now striking her staff more recklessly not caring if she makes a hit or not as if she is doing a fly swatting, cursing angrily at the two who struck her as she whips them: "Damn you! I'll make you pay dearly for that insolence!"

A few moments later while she is busy trying to poke the heads of the three fallen in front of her, Cynthia almost fell backwards when the newly revived fallen suddenly grabbed her ankles. This distraction made Cynthia irritated and shifts her target, she turned quickly to him in a -90 degree direction by just shuffling her legs but not releasing them from the vigorous hands of the fallen and then strikes furiously on his head with the edge of her staff.

It wasn't so long that the firebolt fired by the purple champion shaman finally nears to the designated target, making the two fallens leap away from its direction and as for Cynthia who seems to be oblivious from it, keeps thumping the head of the fallen grabbing her ankle until she hears whizzing the sound of the firebolt rushing to her, she glanced to it but before she could move a muscle it was too late for her to evade it and so the firebolt landed where the shaman intended to, sending Cynthia screaming as it vaporized a portion of her blouse revealing the halves of each of her breasts that appeared quite reddish due to the searing heat and getting knockdown by the blow and falling backwards on top of the crouching fallen grabbing her ankles.

Cynthia's vision started to go blurry while she grunts in pain, not minding about the fallen beneath her.

She wants to get back up but couldn't find the strength, the force of impact made her body go numb, Cynthia is panting and sweating as she lies on top of the fallen, expecting the worse.

Logged

"The Master told his pupils, "Forget being taught and concentrate on learning. When you're sure, question everything." - Book of Cataclysm

Cynthia's wild flailing strikes were scary enough to the two attacking fallen that they backed off after landing their hits. The approach of the fireball made them back off further so as not to get caught by the blast. The mage's strikes to the crawling enemy were sufficient to crack his skull, as he had no way of protecting himself. But even in death he managed to harm her. When Cynthia fell over backwards on top of him, the small horns on the top of his head poked into her left butt cheek, and tore a vertical gash in her trousers as she continued to fall past it, such that half of her ass became exposed, in addition to her burnt chest.

Seeing the partially clothed woman in a bit of an awkward position, the surrounding Fallen warriors made quiet opportunistic growls, appraising her body with their beady dark eyes. The one with the club ventured so far as to walk up to her and start tugging at her damaged blouse to try to pull the burnt fabric away and expose her breasts.

The two shaman champions grinned as they watched the fortuitous turn of events. The purple one planted a cleaver he was carrying in the soft ground beside his feet, and he reached under his loin cloth and began stroking himself under the flap of dirty fabric. The blue skinned one waddled a bit closer for a better look at the action.

Farther away, Fallen warriors were yipping and cackling excitedly, cheering on what they assumed was a going to be a great victory with enjoyable spoils.

Cynthia still felt groggy up to this time, though she could move her limbs in a weak manner. She could hear the inhuman cheer of the crowd from afar, it looked like as if they've already defeated the sisterhood.

When her vision started to get a little bit clearer, she sees a fallen approached her and starts tugging her tattered blouse, trying to ditch it with a club. Cynthia is startled about this and a small amount of adrenaline rushed in her body, giving her a meager amount of strength to move, but before moving her body, she glanced from side to side looking for her staff only to see it 5 ft. Away from her right.

As the fallen slid the left side of her blouse, her left breast popped out gently, Cynthia reacted to this as quickly as she could making a hard 180 degree turn to her right, grunting in pain as she did it, sparing her left breast against the club and not minding if the fallen stripping her would be angered by her action.

Upon making the turn however, Cynthia unknowingly revealed her exposed left butt cheek covered in white panty to the fallen near her as she starts crawling slowly and pathetically while in a prone position, trying to reach obviously for her staff.

Logged

"The Master told his pupils, "Forget being taught and concentrate on learning. When you're sure, question everything." - Book of Cataclysm

The little demon pulled firmly on Cynthia's blouse to hang onto it while she rolled away from him, not seeming to mind the way she exposed her bare butt cheek in the process. The whole thing gave him a bit of a boner, actually. It was only when he looked up and saw the woman's staff on the ground, that he let out a sharp call of warning, and struck her side with his club; a quick strike upon the muscle between her hip and ribcage to warn her against trying to grab her staff.

Another of the Fallen warriors saw what was going on and rushed forward to try to get between Cynthia and her weapon, though he was still a few paces away. The others seemed to be too distracted staring at her exposed boob to react, and many were reaching under their loincloths and stroking themselves.

A few sharp words of command came from the purple skinned shaman champion, seemingly admonishing the club-carrying Fallen for striking Cynthia. At the same time, the shaman pointed with his staff to the human woman who was approaching with spear in hand, Bishibosh following closely behind. The Fallen all turned to look at the blonde woman, and she made a motion with her spear to wave them out of her way.

She was clearly one of the Amazons of the South Sea, but the tattoos covering her naked body appeared to be demonic in nature, likely inscribed into her by Bishibosh or one of his minions to mark her as his property. Spear held out to the side in her right hand, the woman stood about twenty feet away from Cynthia, and called out in a loud voice of challenge, "Get up! Pick up your weapon! My master bids that we fight!" At this, the Fallen pulling on Cynthia's blouse stealthily retreated to a safe distance while the other warriors and shamans gathered in a loose circle around the two women to watch. Some began making bets with each other; not on who would win, but on how many moves it would take before Cynthia would be beaten.

Cynthia's fighting chance turned dim when the club wielding fallen hit her in the abdomen, she squealed, grunts in pain and whimpered as she felt the hard wood. Cringing while still feeling the pain and pants as she catches some air, making her cease the attempt to grab her staff.

A few moments later, her vision returned to normal, she could now see fallens gathering together and surrounding her a few paces away, she had no idea what they are doing whether they are doing some kind of a ritual or savoring her as a meal.

Then she realize what was the fuss all about when a naked tattooed blonde woman wielding a spear came from afar, Cynthia knows that they going to be pitted in a fight. When the blonde amazon shouted her demand for a challenge, Cynthia got back up clumsily and grabs her staff, she knew this would be a losing fight but she doesn't have much of a choice, Bishibosh might spare her at least if she accepts the duel.

Cynthia walks clumsily towards the blonde amazon, still gathering her bearings for the fight, no longer minding about her exposed bosom. As Cynthia stood in front of her she speaks to her: "I don't know who you are and where you came from but if its a fight you want, I'll give you one."

Then after speaking, Cynthia strips her blouse as it would only cause hindrance than support, then she knotted the tattered blouse around her waist. Also, she removes her hood and throws it on the club wielding fallen that hit her recently.

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"The Master told his pupils, "Forget being taught and concentrate on learning. When you're sure, question everything." - Book of Cataclysm

The little Fallen caught the hood in his left hand with a squawk. After examining it for a second and sniffing at it, he discarded it on the ground and returned his attention to the two human women.

The assembled Fallen and their shaman masters began chanting and jeering when they saw Cynthia stand up, apparently excited to see that she wasn't just going to roll over and take it. They cheered even more loudly when she tore off her blouse and exposed her highly desirable bosom to their hungry eyes.

The green-skinned Bishibosh, arriving nearby, raised his staff in the air, which served to quiet the crowd. He finally spoke, in English, his voice scratchy and harsh, like a crow fed through an echo device. "Winner of fight belong to me!", he proclaimed, his words directed at Cynthia, "Loser of fight belong to all!". He made a sweeping gesture with the sword in his right hand, indicating all of the assembled demons as a group, which made them erupt in cheers and chanted taunts. They pumped their fists in the air like soccer hooligans, eagerly awaiting the outcome they hoped for.

The amazon had nothing to say, simply walking forward with an expression as though this was a routine chore for her. Raising her spear above her head in both hands, she made a feint as thought to lunge at Cynthia's chest with the tip, only to quickly shuffle her feet and instead swing the blunt base of the spear at the side of the mage's left knee.

Cynthia wasn't bothered by the wild cheer of the crowd, its pretty obvious that they want her as their "snack", she could see some them were drooling profusely, others jacking off and some were seem to be making "reservation" and "first access" talks with the shamans, though Cynthia just heard their gibberish words.

Finally, Cynthia sees Bishibosh in his foul magnificent flesh, though it was unfortunate for Cynthia that she won't face him in a death match but in another kind of "match" perhaps. After hearing his speech for the match rule, this made her think twice as to whether she would want to be thrown among the low lives or become Bishibosh's personal plaything. Of course if she wants the latter she must do her best to beat down her opponent or be cast into a frenzy gang rape.

When the amazon did some unusual stance with her spear, Cynthia almost laughed at what she is trying to do but as soon as the amazon maneuvered the spear to her knee, Cynthia was caught of guard from that and so the opening on her left knee was a sure shot for a hit. Cynthia slip from her footing and fell backwards, making her breasts jiggled as she made a crash and squealing from the pain.

Cynthia might not be a good hand-to-hand fighter but she still has her cards for this match, by this time she had regenerated some amount of her mana, enough to cast weak spells against the amazon, as she got up she readies a charge bolt in her staff and waits for the amazon to approach her that she might get the full taste of the shock.

Logged

"The Master told his pupils, "Forget being taught and concentrate on learning. When you're sure, question everything." - Book of Cataclysm

Squawks of delight came from the spectators when Cynthia's knee buckled and she fell to the ground. The blonde woman stood her ground and called out harshly, "My name is Diana. Get up" Seemingly unaware of the spell being prepared discretely, Diana advanced forward as soon as Cynthia was on her feet. She swiftly stepped in close and violently pushed her spear out horizontally in a cross-check aimed at Cynthia's mouth, or else her staff if it was ready to parry, that the momentum of the strike might send the tip of the mage's staff into her own face if she wasn't prepared to resist or evade the attack. Either way, the strike was intended to knock her down or off balance, more for intimidation than to do any actual harm, as Diana at this point believed her fighting ability was superior enough that she could afford to play around for the crowd's amusement.

However, a charged bolt at close range would be exactly the kind of thing Diana does not expect, and if it didn't kill her it would at least stun her for half a second and give Cynthia a free shot.

"Diana huh, your untamed looks suits you." After spewing the sarcasm, Cynthia almost got slashed on her mouth, Diana was quick in her foot work and kill strokes, luckily for Cynthia she noticed the stroke that gave her a fraction of seconds to deflect it with her staff. However, it made Cynthia lose her stance and being off balance would make Cynthia unable to get a good shot due to using her staff in warding off Diana's spear.

Before Cynthia nearly loses her footing she deliberately casts the charge bolt out of desperation but it was a bit out of direction, well, the two bolts that will sail in a narrow cone direction and Diana's close proximity to her would suffice for a hit. If only one of the bolts made it, the inflicting damage may not be at maximum but good enough to stun the target for a short time, if the two bolts hit the target however, the result would give Diana a deep shock and will render her unconscious for an hour. If none hit, then Cynthia is in a rude awakening.

« Last Edit: June 14, 2013, 01:55:33 am by little_iveta »

Logged

"The Master told his pupils, "Forget being taught and concentrate on learning. When you're sure, question everything." - Book of Cataclysm

Diana had stayed close to press her advantage after unbalancing her opponent. Just as the pointy end of her spear came flying downwards towards Cynthia's arm, one of the two bolts struck the amazon squarely in the right breast, and made her stagger, aborting her attack as she tried to regain her bearings. The other bolt sailed off in a zig-zag pattern that caused the surrounding spectators to dive to the ground to avoid it. The squeal of a Fallen in the back of the crowd indicated that it had found someone too slow or too confined to get out of the way. The low humming noise of his resurrection followed shortly after that.

Spasms in Diana's legs from the shock made her fall onto her back. It would take a second or so for her to figure out what happened, and in that time she could only put up the most basic of defenses by hovering her spear and right arm blindly over top of her body.

Cynthia fell down when the spear hit her arm the moment after she unleashed the spell, well at least her efforts were not in vain as one of the bolts made a successful impact. Seeing her opponent got electrocuted from the zap, Cynthia quickly got back up even though she still feels heavy from the injury inflicted upon her recently, for this might be her only chance to gain the upper hand of the match. She immediately appraoches the stunned amazon lying on the ground and shoos off her spear that she is waving with her staff, then she points the staff on her face while she is still drowsy, Cynthia wants Diana to yield and accept defeat.

"Drop your weapon or I'll drop you, submit for you have lost."

Cynthia was quick in making those threats even though she has no spell primed in her staff, probably using it to intimidate Diana.

Logged

"The Master told his pupils, "Forget being taught and concentrate on learning. When you're sure, question everything." - Book of Cataclysm

Diana regained her focus to see the end of the staff pointed at her. She looked up at Cynthia's face, watching the words come out of her mouth, and then swiftly grabbed the end of the staff with her left hand to redirect it away from her face. At the same time she slid her head to the side to help dodge whatever she thought would come out of the staff, and swung her leg in a sweeping kick at Cynthia's knee.

Erin was now wandering the Cold Plains, getting better acquainted with his surroundings. He was also looking for something to leech fel energy off of, as he had run a little low... coincidentally, he had wandered a few feet past the border of the corrupted rogue's territory, though he was unaware of that.

It wasn't clear how Erin got here. Perhaps he drifted on the wind, or blinked from shadow to shadow. Like quantum mechanics, the movements of some ephemeral creatures only work when no one is observing them.

Far north of the beaten path, the plains were wide open beneath a big starry sky, masked by swiftly moving clouds. The sound of the wind drowned out much, except for the crickets immediately underfoot, and the odd scream and cry of pain or madness or both that carried upon said wind from far afield. The twinkle of Bishibosh's campfire burned in the distant south, an ever-present beacon to all demons who roam these plains. The rest of the world appeared to be pitch black, except on those occasions when the moon peeked out from behind its thick screen of dark clouds.

It was not the territory of the corrupted rogues per se, so much as a place where one might observe Andariel's maddest minions shrieking and streaking seemingly at random. Those who lacked the mental fortitude to retain their sanity under Andariel's spell invariably drifted towards the fringes of her domain in search of the blood of innocents.

Three such madwomen made their presence known starting from fifty yards out. Their pale skin was clearly visible under what little moonlight or starlight was present, and they wore no clothing, with just sporadic smears of mud and blood to dim their reflectivity. Each one brandished in the air a weapon of the peasantry, having seemingly lost the capacity to handle more nuanced styles of fighting. The one in the center, with wild flowing raven black hair, held a heavy axe in both hands. The one on the right, a freckled brunette, carried a pitchfork. And on the left was a petite blonde brandishing a stout shillelagh with a rusty spike driven through its striking head. As the three women neared Erin's position, they began screaming like banshees, an unnatural blood curdling cacophony belying their intensely corrupted nature.

True, a Shadow like Erin was capable of using the darkness itself as a way to quickly move about. And in fact, the darkness of the Cold Plains simply conserved his strength, making his spells and skills far more easy to perform, which made him confident in his ability to handle the three lunatics. What's more, the abundance of ice in the area would make one of his spells far easier to perform, and the nail club, pitchfork, and heavy axe didn't concern him much. If it wasn't so cold, he would've easily been able to immolate their weapons from a distance, however, making them easier targets for long-range attacks to knock them unconscious, but he reasoned that the axe, at least, couldn't take that much more stress on its handle. The screams were barely effective, as this particular type of demon was quite literally a combination of Fel energy and the darkness in its base's soul, and part of that darkness was fear, a component that didn't make up much of Erin, but enough to make him what most people would call 'courageous'. Quickly raising two dozen ice spears, he waited, gesturing rudely to throw them off their game (or what was left of it) while he stalled until they came close enough for him to reliably hit them.

(24 spears of ice? @_@ How large are they? How much space do they take up around him? Is it like the wall of spears William Wallace had in Braveheart?)

Part of that darkness was fear. Surprise and fear. The two chief parts of that darkness were fear and surprise. And ruthless efficiency. Three chief parts of that darkness. And near fanatical devotion to... I'll start this post again.

The corrupted rogues didn't seem to notice Erin's gesture, or react at all to it. They just kept on running forward. The one in the center shortened her steps as she approached, raising her axe above her head to time a downward strike at him. This bit of footwork slowed her down enough that the one on her left, carrying the pitchfork, outpaced her and came barreling directly towards Erin with the tines leveled at his chest, and a horrid twisted expression on her freckled face, eyes burning bright red. The third rogue circled around to Erin's left like a hyena, club raised in the air, but delaying her attack until the other two women had first made theirs. She let out another vile screech while her straw-coloured locks fluttered in the wind over a face that would be very cute if not for the murder and hellfire that swirled in her red eyes.

While the name of this region was the Cold Plains, there was actually no ice anywhere to be found, seeing as it was not winter. The prevalence of moisture in the air prevented temperatures from dropping below freezing overnight, resulting in just a clinging damp cold without any actual crystallization.

(( Actually, not that big. I just use 'spears' as a general term - they're like hailstones, really. ))

Of course, the cold was exactly what he needed - forcing crystallization was easy in a place cold enough to freeze organic liquid waste ((if you want to be crude - piss)). Directing four of each of his iceballs at the rogues themselves and four more with a little more care at their weapons, he readied his own version of Kage's old sword, reliable but sadly unenchanted. If the spears of ice hit their targets with enough force and precision, there was a pretty good chance he'd knock one, MAYBE two unconscious and break one or two of their weapons. Of course, all this was conjecture. If he could subdue one long enough to shadow-jump her away, that'd be great, but if he could take all three down...

(( I've had to make a lot of assumptions about how exactly that spell works ))

Were it just a handful of pellets directed at a single target, the result might have been very effective. Rather, splitting his attention between six targets left the creature with little time to aim or even imbue much kinetic energy into the little projectiles.

He got lucky with the central attacker. Two spears stuck harmlessly into her breasts, and one into her flank, but the fourth spear struck her eye and blinded her, throwing off her balance and delaying her attack. She lurched sideways in pain, her axe still raised but having lost sight of her enemy. The spears directed at her weapon mostly missed, given its slim profile. The only success was a high-pitched "tink" sound of one of them striking the metal head of the axe.

The blonde on Erin's left was small and quick enough to duck away from the spears that were sent her way, protecting herself with her left arm, such that two of the spears grazed her tricep and forearm, drawing blood but not diminishing her aggression in any way.

The brunette charging at Erin from his right was hit full force in the belly with all four hailstones, which caused her to stumble and fall forward onto the ground. She landed with a thud, and glared up at Erin immediately, lashing out from the ground with her pitchfork, hoping to pierce him in any way she could manage if he was close enough to reach.

The more agile blonde stepped up at this time and swung her club at Erin with full force, teeth bared, trying to skewer his neck or chest with the spike. She let out a guttural grunt as she took her swing, her voice echoing with severe demonic corruption.

Diana regained her focus to see the end of the staff pointed at her. She looked up at Cynthia's face, watching the words come out of her mouth, and then swiftly grabbed the end of the staff with her left hand to redirect it away from her face. At the same time she slid her head to the side to help dodge whatever she thought would come out of the staff, and swung her leg in a sweeping kick at Cynthia's knee.

Cynthia was caught off guard when Diana moved like a cat in evading the attempt to subdue her, the kick to the back of Cynthia's knee was a sure shot to bring Cynthia to fall on her back.

As she fell down, Cynthia is getting fatigue on going back up, she is losing her stamina for the fight, if this match goes on for more her chances of winning this would be slim to none, much worse is that she has just regained a few of her mana pool, but still not enough to cast the weakest of her spells.

Seconds later after the fall, Cynthia gets back to sit on the ground clumsily, not feeling good and starts to get drowsy, she looks to Diana in a blurred and spinning vision.

Logged

"The Master told his pupils, "Forget being taught and concentrate on learning. When you're sure, question everything." - Book of Cataclysm

He melted away into the shadows without any hesitation, allowing the attacks to pass harmlessly through his now-incorporeal body and then resurfacing just out of range, this time opting for the 'Big Ones' approach, quickly condensing and hurling three hailstones the size of his head, attempting to catch them off balance.

The blonde stumbled forward and quickly swung again, turning and backhanding the club through the space where Erin floated incorporeally. Now standing between him and the more butch dark-haired woman, the petite girl took one of the iceballs directly ti the face and flopped unceremoniously onto her back, rolling on the ground. The dark-haired rogue behind her ducked the second ball of ice, having now recovered her vision after placing her left hand over the injured eye.

The third ball of ice sailed towards the fallen pitchfork-wielding rogue, and she had no chance to avoid it. All she could do was pull her head to the side so that the projectile struck her shoulder instead and made her flop onto her back, where the extend of her bloody gut wound was revealed, gushing dark blood onto the cold wet grass below. Unable to move her left arm now, the rogue squirmed in pain, gnashing her teeth at the air above her.

The half-blind rogue who had avoided attack took her hand from her eye, where the cheek had swollen up over it, and once more held her axe in both hands as she rushed forward over the stricken body of her blonde comrade. She hefted her axe into the air and brought it down with murderous force diagonally at Erin's chest.

-- Bishibosh's Camp --

The slowness of Cynthia's recovery would be her undoing. Diana rolled forward onto her knees, letting go of her spear, and then sprung forward on the balls of her feet and pushed Cynthia back down on her back. She straddled the caster's midsection and gripped her throat firmly with her right hand in a choke hold. Her left hand had let go of Cynthia's staff, and instead searched for the mage's right wrist to try to pin it down.

A cheer rose from the surrounding demons as they saw the tables turn in Diana's favour. They had gotten quite used to fucking her, and were glad for a chance to break in this new woman.

Lowering her mouth next to Cynthia's ear, Diana whispered quickly in an unbridled amazonian accent, "While master lives, I am bound. If he dies, my wife will be harmed. Don't fuck with me".

Some fallen started slowly approaching the pair of women, hesitant in case they weren't yet done fighting.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. You really should learn to control that temper." he grinned, before his eyes darkened and he let out a roar, letting his own Wrath take over. He dodge-rolled away, returning to his feet and raising his sword with the intent of destroying her weapon, rushing forward and swinging it horizontally.

The corrupted rogue predictably swung her axe through empty air as Erin ducked and rolled beneath the swing. She let out a shriek to match his roar, and turned her body, hefting her axe once more. This action took about the same time as it took for Erin to stand up after his diving roll, so that by the time he was on his feet, they were both ready to strike at one another. The swifter motion of Erin's sword was able to intercept the rogue's axe as it was coming down at him, hacking deep into the wooden haft, and lodging itself there. The two weapons pressed against one another, with the rogue having the advantage of attacking from a higher angle, but also the disadvantage that her upper body strength was less than impressive. Her thin ropey arms bulged as she tried to force the axe blade downwards into Erin's face, but they ultimately lacked stamina, perhaps as a result of mild starvation since losing her sanity. The wood of the axe, meanwhile, made a creaking noise, indicating that it was close to splintering apart if it took much more stress.

The freckled rogue remained on the ground, squirming, apparently immobilized, but the blonde rogue got back up to her feet, nursing a bloody nose and a broken jaw. The adrenaline coursing through her body meant that she probably didn't feel any pain from it, and her red burning eyes once more locked on their target with that creepy 28-Days-Later vibe. While Erin's sword was still stuck in the haft of his opponent's weapon, the petite blonde used the opportunity to amble up behind the shadow demon and take a swing of her club at his lower back, hoping to tear his whole side open with that spike if he didn't move.

"Come on, now! How can I injure you morons MYSELF if you're tearing each other apart on accident?!" he yelled, suddenly dropping his sword and rolling away to watch. If they couldn't stop themselves in time, he would have to give his sword a good cleaning later.

Erin might have found it extremely difficult to say all of that while rolling on the ground. Such impacts tend to compress the chest and make it difficult to form coherent words. And unless he spoke at the speed of an hyper-caffeinated Italian football commentator, he probably would still be talking by the time the blonde finished following through on her swing and chased after him. The two rogues narrowly missed one another. The heavier dark-haired one stumbled forward, but only closed on her fellow rogue a split second after the blonde had followed through with her swing. With her axe encumbered by the blade stuck in it, she lowered both weapons to the ground and took a moment to separate them, grabbing the sword handle in one hand and the axe in the other, and wedging them apart. The blonde, on the other hand, kept running straight at Erin, taking a backhanded swing downwards at his head while he was still finishing his roll. The lighter weight of her club gave her a much faster rate of attack than the other rogue, allowing her to stay with her target while he moved and continue attacking him.

You really had to pick apart meaningless words? Anyway, the shadow incorporealized again, allowing the swing to pass through him. He switched his strategy around again - if he just let them tire themselves out trying to kill a shadow, it would improve the odds in his favor immensely.

The aggressive rogue swung twice through the incorporeal demon, and ended up charging with her whole body through him entirely. Growling angrily, she turned around and kept on swinging at nothing, like a dog barking relentlessly at a cat in a tree. The taller woman finally separated the two weapons. Discarding her damaged axe, she took up Erin's sword in her right hand, and jogged up to join the battle, also swinging away the shadow.

It will take them a while to figure out that they can't hurt Erin. The demonic corruption has so clouded their minds that they act purely on instinct. Yet, even animals will get tired eventually and give up. The third rogue, still lying wounded on the ground, stopped thrashing so much, and started just gasping weakly into the air, the red starting to fade from her eyes as her body's energy waned.

Which was exactly the opportunity he had been waiting for. Quickly switching off his incorporeality, he delivered a powerful kick directly aimed at the taller of the two rogues who could still fight, with the intent of winding her and forcing her to drop his sword. He had given up on the wounded one, as the whole purpose of this was to forcibly, eh, 'extract' energy from a healthy subject.

Just as the rogues let their arms down, huffing with fatigue, the kick struck, making the taller one let out a loud oof, and stumble backwards. She tripped on her heels and fell onto her back, but still held onto the sword by ingrained reflex. The blonde one, seeing this turn of events, made a few short screeches at him like a monkey, and walked towards him, raising her club to try attacking him again, but she was noticeably slower than at the start of the fight.

Hearing the screech, he aimed a snap kick at her, aiming for speed, not style anymore. He had forgotten how difficult it was to deal with an enemy as strong as he was, and too single-minded to be thrown off their game by a few witty comments or mind affecting spells.

The blonde was struck soundly on the midsection and knocked off her feet, where she rolled on the ground and took some time to regain her balance and get up. In that time, the one still holding Erin's sword began to rise up to her feet, glaring at her foe with burning hatred from her one good eye, and looking as though she was about to lunge forward and gut him with his own sword.

The ball of dirt staggered the exhausted rogue, and the follow-up punch made her knees crumple. She fell to the ground again, this time not so interested in getting back up again. The red began to fade from her eyes in favour of the underlying blue, and she choked and gasped, coughing up sand and soil, clearly dazed as she lay on her side.

The blonde one got slowly to her feet, club hanging at her side in one hand, and she stared at Erin from beneath her sweaty brow and atop her bleeding nose, jaw hanging at a crooked angle. Strands of hair clung to her wet face, and an involuntary shiver passed over her naked body as she began to feel the effects of the cold air. She was taking light, pained, wheezing breaths, much like her downed freckled comrade, who may or may not live through the night.

"Give up. None of you have enough energy left to touch me." he growled threateningly, pulling his sword from the ground and turning around. He still had enough energy to kill them in this state, but it WAS in his best interests to leave at least one alive, and it was becoming increasingly clear who was the strongest fighter among the four.

The madness in their eyes made it uncertain as to whether or not they could even understand what he was saying. That said, the dark haired one on the ground seemed to prefer to stay down, her chest heaving as she gasped to catch her breath. She didn't even look at him, but rather just gazed absently at the wet grass next to her face, giving it the thousand yard stare. The girl who remained standing looked to her two downed comrades, and back at Erin. Whether she heeded his words or merely sized up his aggressive bearing, she decided not to attack him again. Instead, she hissed at him with bared teeth, and turned and fled into the darkness to the south, jogging at the reduced pace of an exhausted marathon runner. This plus her shorter stride meant that catching her would not be difficult, if the demon wanted to spend the effort. But he already had two rogues disabled, one of which was healthy enough to fuck without making a mess.

He decided not to risk it and turned to the others, sizing them up. It looked like the fight had left the raven-haired amazonian corrupted, while the other was in concerning health. After some deliberation, he decided not to finish her off... and perhaps assist her healing. Another corrupted alive meant a bit more corruption in the world. But to heal her, well, that'd take either a healing spell or a good medical kit... and he didn't have the supplies, nor the fel energy. He would have the latter soon enough, though, he mentally grinned as he strode confidently up to the dark-haired woman.

The injured freckled rogue continued to lie still, breathing shallowly. She was not in imminent danger, but would probably not last the night unless she was healed at some point.

The raven-haired one stirred when Erin approached. She roused herself up on one hand and knee, looking up at him with her one good eye. The madness was still there, but like the other one she didn't try to attack him anymore. She just watched him to see what he was going to do. Her lithe naked body was covered in sweat that glistened in the intermittent moonlight, and smears of mud that in their randomness looked a bit like war paint. The puncture marks in her bosom that his ice spears had made were slowly drying up as scabs, and her left eye was swollen shut but otherwise looked like it would heal fine, given time; he must have missed the eyeball and struck the cheek instead.

He gave her an intimidating glare, intended to show her exactly who was in charge. As best he could figure, she was a bit like a wolf - definitely not attacking anymore now that he had proven his strength, and maybe she'd even obey if he clearly established his dominance.

Slowly, the corrupted rogue got to her feet, staring right back at the shadow demon, as though mimicking his disposition. In her mind she was debating whether or not to strike him with her fists if he stood there glaring for too long.

He relaxed the glare. That wasn't working, obviously. So what to do... he could simply force her, but that would most likely make a powerful foe out of the corrupted in the area. Perhaps if he showed her his intent...? Basic healing was still very much possible. He could at least stabilize the other one, but not fully heal her...

While Erin considered his options, the corrupted rogue watched for a moment with a dead look in her eye. Beneath that ambiguous gaze, however, she was gaining confidence that this man was unwilling to strike her down. Taking advantage of his hesitation, her eye suddenly glowed bright red, and she lunged at him, zombie-like, grabbing at his shoulders with both hands outstretched, and trying to sink her teeth into the right side of his neck, a nazgul shriek escaping her throat once more.

The dark haired rogue rolled over from the force of the kick, leaving smears of mud all over her bare back. She got slowly to her feet while her foe was applying his healing to the other one.

The freckled rogue had become rather docile from her injury, breathing shallowly and staring up at the cloud-covered moon, entranced by it. The feel of healing magic brought her senses back, and she snapped her gaze to the wound on her belly that was slowly closing up and resolving into four individual puncture marks created by the four missiles that struck her. The red did not return to her eyes as with the other two, and it seemed that perhaps being incapacitated had, at least temporarily, weakened Andariel's hold on her mind. Now she appeared as though waking from a dream to find herself naked and bloody, and sprawled out on the ground beneath a strange and evil looking man. She gasped in fright, startled and not knowing what to do.

Her taller comrade slowly rose and stalked up behind Erin, red eyes gleaming in the darkness, an ominous visage reflected in the quivering blue-green eyes of the freckled rogue afore.

He whirled around again, seeing the reflection of the raven-haired rogue in the freckled rogue's eyes, and aimed a punch that was more than capable of knocking her senseless at her head with lightning speed.

She took his fist right under the chin, and swiftly flopped to the ground, unconscious.

The one on the ground gasped with wide eyes, and started to crawl backwards to sneak away. She found her pitchfork on the ground beside her, and picked it up, holding it across her chest defensively while she watched Erin, shivering though her heart raced.

The cowering rogue shied away from Erin, clutching her weapon defensively. While he had the bearing of someone trying to help, experience had taught her not to trust strangers, especially male ones. She opened her mouth to respond, but only coughed, her throat incredibly parched from all the screeching and wailing she had done while corrupted... among other things a corrupted throat is known to do. She didn't take his hand, but she made to get up on her own with the support of her pitchfork.

"kkhh... who are you...", she croaked, the vulnerability pouring out of her eyes as she clung to her weapon like a lifeline.

She was filthy, covered in mud and blood and other substances that were visible only in the moonlight, but there was a sort of natural beauty under all of that. Her chest was by no means spectacular, but it was ample enough in a practical way. The rest of her body was very fit, with strong abs and legs, and a wonderful waist-to-hip ratio that would be qualified as an 'hourglass figure'. She'd make a wonderful mate if she hadn't been driven insane by her contact with demonic forces. Given her age, she had probably been someone else's mate before this, though the old maxim might apply that whatever happened before Andariel... is not important.

He rubbed his hands together in glee... Or perhaps he was just getting cold. Either way, hanging around here wouldn't be ideal for siphoning the energy out of her... If he could find somewhere warm, he could probably 'extract' the fel energy and get back to the Moor to spread some more corruption, but he hadn't seen anywhere decent in the Plains as of yet.

The only thing he could be sure about, as far as the Cold Plains went, was that the further south he got, the more demons he would have to encounter. They seemed to be spilling out of the Stony Field to the southwest, whereas the northern expanse was mostly untouched, too sparsely populated to be worth anyone's time invading. Those who did live there were already killed or corrupted some months ago by what few demons did venture forth. It might take a long while to find them in the dark, but there would probably be several houses to the north that were empty and could be warmed up.

Due south, there was the fire of Bishibosh's camp, but it was at least a mile distant. There was also supposed to be a cave somewhere around there, but Erin couldn't be sure where exactly it was. To the southwest he had noticed a farmstead that looked to be occupied, as the fences and gates were still well maintained. To the southeast there was another farmhouse, but it was a bit farther away. However, it was in a disused state, suggesting that its occupants had been killed long ago. That path, however, would take Erin past the main road, and close to Flavie's camp, where he would have noticed that she was well prepared to strike down carelessly wandering demons from her advantageous position. Her magically enchanted arrows would even be able to hit him while he was incorporeal.

While ordinarily Erin might meld into the shadows to flit from point to point, that sort of transit would be impossible if he wanted to carry an unconscious human along with him.

Deciding to leave the more delicate matter of confronting Flavie to another day or demon, Erin produced a few lengths of rope and set to work restraining the unconscious rogue for the trip. No sense in carrying along a prisoner when she would be able to escape or attack...

No, that'd be absolutely disgusting. Did you think he was powerful enough to just break physics when he jumped into his shadow and became incorporeal? Matter cannot be destroyed nor created, it's a minor plane shift spell... And it works on inanimate objects outside of the user.

The slowness of Cynthia's recovery would be her undoing. Diana rolled forward onto her knees, letting go of her spear, and then sprung forward on the balls of her feet and pushed Cynthia back down on her back. She straddled the caster's midsection and gripped her throat firmly with her right hand in a choke hold. Her left hand had let go of Cynthia's staff, and instead searched for the mage's right wrist to try to pin it down.

A cheer rose from the surrounding demons as they saw the tables turn in Diana's favour. They had gotten quite used to fucking her, and were glad for a chance to break in this new woman.

Lowering her mouth next to Cynthia's ear, Diana whispered quickly in an unbridled amazonian accent, "While master lives, I am bound. If he dies, my wife will be harmed. Don't fuck with me".

Some fallen started slowly approaching the pair of women, hesitant in case they weren't yet done fighting.

Cynthia grunted in pain when Diana leaped forward as she pounced her down. Cynthia's groaning ceased when her throat was choked, she could only pant and breath fast as she looked on Diana's face in horror and shame, she wanted to give Diana's back a knee strike but she was just heavy for her to catch a leverage, adding to it was that her right wrist pinned down and her staff thrown to the side.

Cynthia could only think of the terror that awaits her when she heard the crowd of filthy fallens cheer on the height of their depravity.

She didn't quite understand though what Diana meant when she said the word "wife", she guessed that the Fallen might have other prized captive in their possession.

Then as the band of fallen warriors draw near to the ladies, Cynthia looks to them in fear, for she knows that they are totally hungry for her flesh and that they are done savoring the moment.

« Last Edit: July 11, 2013, 02:29:38 am by little_iveta »

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"The Master told his pupils, "Forget being taught and concentrate on learning. When you're sure, question everything." - Book of Cataclysm

"Krok... NYOK!" Bishibosh uttered these words of command, pointing with his staff at the pair of women. The tattoos all over Diana's body glowed bright red, and she bristled in discomfort, her whole body tensing from a minor amount of pain coursing through it. The shaman chief didn't like it when his slave spoke to other women in whispers. Getting on with her apparent orders, the amazon moved up with her legs to place her knees to either side of Cynthia's head. Shifting her grip to her opponent's hair, instead of her neck, Diana lowered her bare pussy onto the mage's face, and looked up at the crowd of advancing fallen warriors. Cynthia soon felt small hands upon her legs and ankles, simultaneously feeling her up and tugging away at the rest of her clothing, and she could hear the soft footsteps of two or three more approaching from the direction of her head.

Cynthia writhed in protest as she felt the filthy hands of the fallen feeling her up and trying to ditch her tattered trousers, moreover the scent of Diana's full frontal bare pussy on her face, she is never used in getting full contact with a partner of same sex as hers. She continues shuffling, squirming and arching her legs in a pathetic attempt to ward off the impish hands savoring her flesh. Finally, Cynthia whimpers and yells her protest, "Get off me! Filthy outcast of hell, how dare you molest my modesty!"

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"The Master told his pupils, "Forget being taught and concentrate on learning. When you're sure, question everything." - Book of Cataclysm

Diana grinned down at Cynthia briefly, and shifted her position to smother the mage's mouth with her pussylips and prevent a second outburst. "Shut up, bitch~", she whispered in a teasing tone while rocking her groin back and forth, "Everybody takes their turn~".

The Fallen who were groping her seemed not to heed Cynthia's protests, perhaps not even understanding what she said. What they did understand was her body language, and soon two pairs of arms wrapped around her flesh; one Fallen securing each of her legs. They used their body weight to force the mage's legs apart, while a third demon cut open her pants with a knife and tore them away from her. The chill of cold night air on her exposed pussy was soon replaced by the grabbing of small hands on the insides of her thighs, kneading the flesh there. Then came a warm wet sensation that could only come from someone's tongue dragging up her slit and poking its way inside.

Lyn entered the cold plains from the blood Moor. So far this journey has been pretty easy, and she was glad for that. Seeing the strange woman walking with a fallen had confused Lyn, but now that she no longer saw them she did not see a need to keep her bow notched. So she put the arrow back in her quiver, but kept her bow in hand incase it was needed. 'I need to take a right turn here now?' She thought.

(Do tell me if she can see the woman being raped, since if she can see/hear that she would try to save her.)

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(Cynthia is being raped far to the south, Antje Traue far to the north, neither would be immediately seen or heard over the strong winds. Also both scenes were started so long ago that they're still night time while it seems you're in daytime)

Flavie's camp consisted of a small tent surrounded by short wooden stakes that had been positioned on an angle to stop creatures coming out of the Cold Plains to the west from entering the Blood Moor in the east. To the south was a flooded quagmire that fed out into the sea. The water was shallow but the fine mud silt at the bottom acted like quicksand to make wading through it near impossible. To the north was a mess of dense thorny shrubbery that defied progress through it. Thus, the footpath where Flavie was encamped served as a fine choke point to prevent demons from invading the Blood Moor in force. The smaller ones, meaning the Fallen and corrupted quill rats, had been able to sneak individually through the thickets in the north while zombies had trudged their way underwater in the south. But the goat men, corrupted rogues, and larger packs of fallen would necessarily need to use the footpath, where Flavie would be waiting for them.

Tripwires, snares, and hidden pits were scattered about the western side of the barricade, rigged to a bell that would alert Flavie if demons were approaching. Arrows were arranged about the east side of the camp, stuck into the ground in clusters of twenty, ready to be plucked and nocked in an emergency. There was also a spare hunting bow lying in the corner in case Flavie broke a string in a pinch. Hand axes and hammers were also leaned up near the tent, though they were more likely there as tools for manipulating the stakes in the ground than for use as weapons.

A small cooking fire had diminished to embers some time last night and was letting a thin stream of smoke upwards. For all the careful way her camp was laid out, it didn't seem right that Flavie would leave the fire unattended while she went to sleep. The veteran rogue was nowhere to be found in this camp, however, so if she was not in her tent sleeping, then she must have gone off somewhere, which again seemed like something Flavie wouldn't do. The Sisters held Flavie in too high esteem to expect her to just desert her post like that.

The place was eerily deserted as tent canvas flapped in the wind and debris rolled across the packed dirt. There were no signs of a struggle having taken place here, nor any signs of demons approaching. Looking out past the stakes and pits to the west, it was just open grassy field, bisected by the dirt road stretching onward to the horizon.

(this was supposed to be the "game event" that beating the den of evil triggers - Flavie no longer stops people from entering the Cold Plains because she's not here anymore)

Anyway, back with Erin, after very thoroughly hog tying the corrupted rogue to his satisfaction and testing her bonds, he hefted the rogue up and began to carry her towards the cabins. Siphoning off her corruption was going to be fun... Perhaps he could even train her to obey him. Unlikely a that was, toying with the thought kept him entertained through the trek.

Lyn looked over the scene. being very mindful of the traps and cautious not to get too close to them. This whole thing didn't look right, clearly someone was very dedicated to protecting this area, but they were gone. Why would they leave it unguarded if they were so strongly dedicated to keeping it safe? Were they captured? Did they die? Lyn didn't see the signs of a fight. She just knew something was wrong, so she began searching the campsite for any signs of the person who had once been here. A trail of flattened grass they left as they walked away, a mark in the sand, a footprint, anything that would lead Lyn to wherever they went. Lyn was naturally a helpful person, she wanted to help everyone she could. On the other hand, she was busy trying to help out the rouges, so if she could not find any way of tracking down whoever was in this campsite, she would give up and continue on her journey, heading down the path.

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Lyn could confirm that the tent was empty. There were traces of foot traffic all over the path, moreso on the Blood Moor side of it. That much was expected, since the whole purpose of the camp was to keep demons from entering the Blood Moor. Only a single set of footprints could be spotted on the Cold Plains side of it--and by set I mean the odd boot print here or there where the ground was soft and moist--heading away from the camp, around the barricades.

There was a fair amount of shrubbery crowding the road on the other side of the barricades before it opened up into the vast windy plains. Shapes far in the distance could be seen moving around, most likely demons or some of the corrupted rogues who wandered this land. As Lyn got a bit closer to the barricades, she could hear a female voice on the wind, very faint, and intermingled with what sounded like the bleating of goats. It seemed to be coming from a cluster of boulders and shrubs not far away, just north of the road (to Lyn's right).

-- Far North Field (night) --

The unconscious rogue was probably the heaviest of the three that Erin had defeated, in that she was the tallest and had the most muscle. Carrying her for a few hundred meters against the chilly northerly wind would have been very uncomfortable, if Erin was at all human. The nearest structure that he found was a dilapidated farm house. It was very small, with no more than three rooms in it, and it looked like the roof had fallen in across most of it, and the front door had fallen off, leaving just a rotted door frame as the main entrance. A garden nearby, encircled by a two-foot stone wall, was completely barren. It looked as though nobody had been living here for decades. This meant it was likely that no demons would have bothered paying a visit, since there was nobody here to kill or corrupt. The remoteness of this house should give Erin confidence that he won't be disturbed this night.

Just to be safe, he user the last of the Fel energy he didn't need to perform a detection spell, double-checking to make sure no one was inside... At least, no one and nothing ALIVE. A few skeletons wouldn't bother him much - he had created too many and cared too little to be bothered by a skeleton or two. Sure, some of the weirder bones out there still gave him the creeps, but he could handle that.

Still cautious, he entered the building, checking from side to side. He had checked for living creatures, but undead ones and spirits would be naturally excluded from that. Which is why he was being careful; he didn't want to lose his prize to some random zombie.

Erin entered from the west into what might have been a living room, for there was a bricked-lined space on the south wall for a fireplace. The immediate room to the left was probably a bedroom, and the one beyond it was a kitchen, as there were empty water basins there, and scorch marks on the floor and wall from wood fires in the past.

In the bedroom, there were two rats gnawing on an errant rib. And out of the closet of that bedroom came a fully formed skeleton, minus one rib. What the skeleton lacked in anatomy, it made up for in hardware, sporting a splintered round wooden shield on its left forearm, with three rotten arrows stuck into it. In its right hand was a Fransisca, the weapon of the Frankish people, famed as the bane of cavalry when thrown in volleys. This particular skeleton might be over five hundred years old!

From the farther room, the kitchen, stirred the signs of a second skeleton, its light footsteps tapping on the old wooden floorboards from around the corner.

Lyn noticed the shapes moving around in the distance, she kept an eye on them but it didn't deter her much from her goal. She knew there'd be monsters here, and was ready to face whatever came. She opted to follow the footprints of the boot, her head perked up a little when she heard a female's voice, but then again that did not tell her much. It didn't tell her whether it was friend or foe, human or monster, or just something she heard that wasn't really there. She was smart enough not to run after it, although the sound of bleating goats confused her, and made her wonder if it was some sort of demon.

She glanced at the cluster of boulders, then focused a little. Using her magic she made a clone of herself appear next to her, it wasn't a real clone though, just an illusion. It could not physically come into contact with anything. And with that Lyn sent the illusion ahead of herself and into the cluster of boulders and shrubs. She hoped that if this was some sort of trap, the illusion would spring it instead of herself. Lyn followed along about twenty feet behind her illusion, trying to stay out of sight as she followed.

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Still exhausted from the earlier fight, Erin knew he could take them down, sure, but he needed rest afterwards. Extracting the Fel energy from the girl would have to wait. In the meantime, he swung his own sword upwards at an angle to intercept, hoping that the skeleton wouldn't be fast enough to deflect his blade before it took half of the undead's weapon.

There was suddenly a loud noise as Lyn's double approached the boulders, as if from an enraged camel. From her more distant position, she could see a bestial creature emerge from behind the stones and charge towards the illusion. The creature was nearly seven feet tall, standing on two legs ending in hooves. It was covered in brown fur like a grizzly bear, and carried a wicked looking scythe. Red eyes and goat horns adorned its head, and it had a look of hellspawn madness to it. It closed the distance to the illusion quickly, and made a horizontal swipe of its scythe blade, about chest height but slightly short of striking the illusion's body, instead swinging at the bow in her hand.

Other noises from behind the boulders suggested that this demon was not alone.

-- Abandoned house (Far North Field) --

Centuries of undeath had taken their toll on this ancient warrior's finesse. The arc of the skeleton's attack was fully predictable, and easy for Erin to parry. As the blade of his sword slid up the axe's haft and locked up under the axe blade, the skeleton took a step forward and swung its shield at Erin's right shoulder, hoping to knock him off balance.

He took a step backwards and swung his blade around with as much speed as he could muster. Whatever this... Thing had been when it was alive, it was pretty rusty now, which gave him the advantage. Still, he couldn't afford to get cocky.

Lyn could hear other noises behind the rocks, but remembered hearing that female voice, so she assumed there must be something else there. Possibly a human female. She remained calm as she saw the large creature charge out at her illusion, and trying to keep up the illusion she made the double jump back and attempt to dodge the attack, it was aimed at her bow after all, making it easier to dodge. Although... That made her question if this was a friend or foe, why was it trying to disarm her instead of kill her? The clone pulled back an arrow on it's bow and pointed it at the minotaur's neck. The arrow was also an illusion and couldn't hurt the beast, but it looked real. "Stop!" The illusion would demand, trying to see if the creature was friendly.

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The skeleton's shield smashed and splintered against Erin's arm as he tried to back away, the rotten wood disintegrating from the impact. Erin's counter attack hacked deep into the skeleton's upper left arm, severing it and sending the whole arm falling to the floor with a clatter. Unfazed, the undead warrior brought his axe up over his head and swung it down again at Erin with Terminator-like resolve. Its emotionless skull just grinned blankly at him as it hacked away.

From the other room off to his right, a second skeleton emerged into Erin's line of sight. The second one was considerably shorter, probably female, and it carried a six inch butcher knife in each hand, the blades rusty and chipped with years of disuse. The skeleton strode forward swiftly and fearlessly such that it would close the gap between it and Erin in the next couple seconds.

The minor difference between a minotaur and a goatman was that while a minotaur has the appearance of a bull, this creature attacking Lyn's double had the appearance of a goat, putting it more in line with a very tall satyr or faun. The wicked scythe blade missed as the illusion jumped back, but the goatman carried forward with the momentum, so that by the time she had nocked her arrow, the creature was close enough to attack again. This time it took no chances and lunged forward with the blunt end of its scythe handle, attempting to strike the phantasm on the chin while overrunning it, ignoring her command to stop.

From behind the boulders, a second goatman appeared, slightly shorter but still well over six feet tall. Also coated in dirt-brown fur, this one held a short bow in his hands, and drew an arrow back, taking aim at the illusion. With his comrade in the way of the shot, he hesitated, and in glancing around, his gaze came to rest on Lyn's hiding position.

There was then a thump from behind the boulders, the sound of a body hitting the ground, followed by a hoarse female voice croaking a pained moan.

Erin swore under his breath. He was still confident in his ability to handle them, but he would have to fight smart and not wear himself down attacking uselessly. Still...

He quickly spun away from the axe blow and used his momentum to drive his blade towards the skeleton he was fighting horizontally, looking to slice him in half horizontally through the spine and end it right there and then. Then he'd deal with the shorter knife-wielding skeleton.

(How are you making those little maps? You typing them out by hand or using some program?)

-- Flavie's camp --

When the goatman ignored her command to stop, it gave her all the information she needed to know that it was not friendly, despite it not attempting to kill her. She lost a valuable surprise attack due to that, but she just couldn't attack anything that seemed like it may have been friendly. She was too kind and was a pacifist, she would not kill anything she did not have to. But, these monsters made it clear that she did not have a choice, especially when she heard the female voice again and it sounded like it was in pain, or being attacked, or both. Her eyes narrowed when she spotted the archer, and hearing the thud from behind the rocks she determined that there was a group of these things here. How many, she didn't know. But there was probably three or more.

Lyn was going to shoot the scythe-wielder. But seeing the archer, she changed targets. She was confident that she could best a goat in a match of agility, hooves were not as good as feet for jumping and balancing, so she figured that she could stay out of reach of the scythe wielder. But the archer... Even if she could outmaneuver it, it had range and could hit her even if she stayed out of it's reach. That was a bigger threat, and thus her first target.

Sacrificing the illusion, Lyn made her illusion-self fire an arrow at the archer without attempting to dodge the scythe, since it couldn't do both at once. The scythe-wielding goat man would just go right through the illusion as if nothing was there. It would not disappear, but it wasn't too hard to tell that it was a fake when it as completely intangible.

Lyn herself was counting on the archer trying to dodge the arrow from her illusion, despite the fact that the arrow was not real and couldn't harm it. She would wait, and as soon as she saw the goat-archer move to dodge she would fire a real arrow at it, aiming for it's chest, in the heart/lungs area in hopes of getting a shot that would either pierce the heart and kill it, or pierce the lungs and make it begin to suffocate. She knew dodging one arrow was hard enough, but dodging a second while in mid-dodge would be next to impossible. Especially for something standing on hooves. Lyn would grab and notch a second arrow immediately after firing the first.

« Last Edit: August 28, 2013, 01:14:32 pm by Viante »

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The taller goatman, let's call him Aleph, lunged fully through the illusion, looking a bit confused when his weapon failed to strike anything tangible. The shorter one, whom we'll name Borukta, had not expected Lyn's double to be able to get off a shot with Aleph bearing down upon her. Surprised by the sight of an arrow flying at him, he instinctively ducked to avoid it, even though he could see before it reached him that its source was an illusion. The time it would take to process that bit of logic was more than enough for the real Lyn to line up a shot and fire. Borukta looked back at Lyn just in time to see the second arrow coming low at him, and then stick into him chest just below his ribs as he stood up to move. He had time to yell out a bleating warning before it was cut short by the hit and he collapsed to the ground, squirming in wretched agony.

Aleph took the cue and looked around at where the arrow must have come from, soon spotting Lyn's position and turning to face her. From where Borukta had fallen, two more goatmen appeared, whom we'll call Cato and Daedalus. Each carried a smooth wooden cudgel wrapped in leather, clearly intended to be used as non-lethal weapons.

-- Abandoned House --

The strike looked at first as though it had been ineffective, with Erin's sword partially lodged between the skeleton's vertebrae for half a second. Then, as the skeleton turned to attack again, its spine creaked and snapped, and it toppled over, crashing to the floor in two pieces held together by a strip of tissue. It struggled on the floor, trying to orient itself to continue fighting. During the second or so that it took for this to happen, the shorter skeleton swfitly crossed the distance between the rooms, and lunged at Erin with both knives at kidney height while its decayed jaws snapped at his neck. Near the building entrance, the bound rogue was beginning to regain consciousness, stirring and murmuring, and then wriggling violently in an effort to get free of her bonds.

The longer he stuck around here, the longer the rogue had to regain consciousness and get free. He realized that as soon as he had begun to fight. What's more, the sounds of fighting would likely get her awake. So he had to finish this - NOW. With that thought in mind, his blade flashed with power, as he channeled a little Fel energy through it to increase the power of his strikes, the very last vestiges of the reserves he wouldn't need later. With all his speed, he parried the female skeleton's initial attack as best he could and then seemed to go for the same move he had cut the first one up with - but it was a feint, as he would change angle at the last moment and go for the neck, assuming he was successful in that first parrying. Then he'd deal with the still-unliving male skeleton, and retrieve his prize.

The trouble with trying to parry three attacks at once, Erin soon found out, is that he only had one implement with which to do it. Batting aside one of the knives and weaving to evade the skeleton's bite still left him open to being shanked with the other knife. Like the other skeleton, this one seemed to have no sense of self preservation and just mechanically attacked as much as it could, stabbing at Erin's fleshy body repeatedly until his Fel-charged sword contacted with her neck. It remains to be determined whether or not an animated skeleton can function without a head, but the Fel energy in Erin's sword sent a ripple through the entire creature, dissolving the magic that held the joints together, and causing the whole skeleton to collapse into a pile of bones, along with the clank of the two knives it was carrying.

The more ancient male skeleton tried to chop at Erin's foot with its axe, but was easily dodged and dispatched. The cost of his victory, however, was a nasty stab wound on the right side of his abdomen, and lesser cuts on his left forearm. He quickly began to leak blood onto the floor, and every breath would send a sharp pain through his body.

The bonds holding the captive rogue were strong enough that she was unable to break them, despite her struggling. However, being gripped by the madness of demonic corruption, she continued to try anyways, wriggling like a fish as she glared up at her captor with bright red eyes and growled.

"Relief to see you're still tied up nice and tight, but how's about I get around to taking what I need from you?" he grinned through the pain, setting his sword off to the side. Once again, he paused to admire his handiwork - three corrupted rogues at once, then two skeletons at the same time, and he came away from it with quite the looker of a captive, at least by dirty, wild, feral standards. Then he got to work. He was going to extract the energy he needed the quickest way possible, a quick energy drain, and then he'd decide what to do with the corrupted rogue. Perhaps he would train her to be a good little cumslut for the other demons she ran into, or even keep her for himself... or maybe he'd just leave her out here, at the mercy of whatever monster happened across her...

He grinned widely, heaving her up with some effort and pain, though it wasn't too much to handle. Carrying her inside, he found a warm spot and set her down, before moving behind her to appreciate the primary sexual characteristic of the female body up close. It had been far too long since he had stocked up on Fel energy - sure, he could generate some more himself, but that was nowhere near as fun or fulfilling.

Lyn gave a silent nod to herself when her arrow struck and brought down the first goatman. One more to go, she thought as she took a deep breath and prepared for the inevitable counterattack. She bit her lip when she saw two more coming out from behind the stone, although their choice of weaponry bothered her a little. Why were they using non-lethal weapons if they were trying to kill her? Or.. If they weren't trying to kill her, then why were they attacking? she didn't understand it, but frankly didn't waste time trying to figure it out.

Lyn took note of the traps she had passed earlier, and trying to keep her range advantage, started backing off towards said traps. She expected them to dodge if she fired at them while they were all looking at her, and she didn't want to give them a chance to close the gap while she took the time to fire. She was a guerrilla fighter after all, she fought using her mobility to avoid taking any of them on head-on. Taking advantage of terrain as she picked off her opponents one by one, instead of facing the entire group all at once. She kept her arrow notched in her bow so she could fire quickly if needed.

« Last Edit: September 01, 2013, 02:13:01 pm by Viante »

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The closest thing to a warm spot in this run down old house was a space on one side of the living room that was spared the cold wind that was rushing in through the broken walls. Some of the floor boards creaked dangerously as Erin walked over them bearing the weight of two people. A glance into the kitchen revealed that most of the floor there was missing completely, having broken through into a shallow basement. The shorter skeleton must have crawled up out of that hole. The squeaking of rats could be heard beneath the floorboards as Erin walked over them, and centipedes ran from the cracks when he approached, disappearing into other cracks further away. There was an old stone fireplace still intact on the other side of the room, scorched black from decades of use, but there was no fuel left in it to be burned.

Looking more intimately, Erin could see that the bound rogue was as pink and moist as she ought to be, despite her thighs and pretty much every other part of her body being covered in a thin layer of dry dirt. Her fingernails were black from clawing through mud, and there were also traces of dried blood on her fingers, probably from having killed or scratched people (or monsters) with her bare hands. Her breasts hung well beneath her, filled out with the blood running to them due to her bent over position. Despite having been running around naked for some time in the Cold Plains, there were no signs of disease having caught up to her, perhaps a unique perk of the demonic corruption that had taken over her body, that it had become too poisonous for bacteria to infect. A hand on any part of her flesh revealed that she was radiating unnatural heat, as though her insides were on fire.

-- Flavie's Camp --

Aleph ran after Lyn as quickly as his hooved feet could carry him, his scythe menacing overhead. Lyn would be able to move faster than him if she turned her back and ran full out. But in trying to keep an eye on him while at the same time making sure she didn't trip on rocks or slip in the mud, or run into one of the traps herself, she found it difficult to gain much ground against him. The first of the stakes that Flavie had set in the ground was still about forty feet away, while Aleph was bearing down within fifteen feet of her.

Of the two other goatmen, Cato also gave chase, while Daedalus held his ground. Watching where Lyn was going and remembering how effectively Flavie was able to thwart his gang from that position before, the savvy goatman left the chase to his two companions, and returned back behind the boulders. Cato, meanwhile, was initially confused by Lyn's double, still standing there. Having not really been paying attention when Aleph had rushed through it, Cato saw it as an easy target, and rushed up to it, trying to grab its arm.

"Well, aren't you just burning up? Oh, well, so much the better, all things considered." grinned Erin, giving the rogue a playful smack on her left breast. Setting her down, he aimed a blow towards the back of her head, intending to knock her unconscious or at least stun her for long enough to alter her bindings. He didn't need to hogtie her here, just restrain her... And there was nothing to suspend her from, anyway.

Lyn did turn back and run full out, although she was a very fast and agile woman so running backwards wasn't much of a problem for her either. She just couldn't aim while running, she wasn't that great of an archer. She kept glancing back to make sure he was following, and listened to the thundering of hooves. She ran straight towards the nearest trap, making sure to run over it but placing her footing very carefully to not set it off. She did not stop right after the trap, she ran an extra five feet before turning and stopping. She pulled up her bow and pulled back the arrow, taking aim and waiting for the right opportunity to fire. She had separated this one from the others, she wasn't so worried about fighting it head on as long as the others were not nearby. She had two plans, plan A, to fire at the creature when it set off the trap and was unable to dodge.

Or, if it avoided the trap, plan B was to fire while it was stepping around the trap. When it's focus was on avoiding the trap. He would have one leg on the ground and one leg in mid-step while stepping around the trap, if he avoided it, that was when she would fire at the leg that was on the ground. Aiming for the kneecap. While the leg he was stepping forward with was off the ground, and his focus was on avoiding the trap, to make dodging difficult.

As for the illusion, she was not focused on it and it was standing still. If she moved too much further it would dispell itself. But, for now, it just blankly stood there and did nothing as he tried to grab it. It wasn't real though, so he couldn't grab it.

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Instead of all four limbs tied together, her arms were bound together above her head while her legs were forced into a position much like the setup for a breaststroke kick, tied together at the ankles and her knees bound into place.

After dealing with the two undead it seem he didn't run into anything else, part of him was glade so he could get to the camp but another was disapointed because the lack of anything that would have enough balls to take him on in a fight. All in all it was even. Bane have swich from his twin bladed battle axe for his claymore and leting the flat end of the blade rest on his shoulder as he walked.

(Is Bane carrying a weapon in each hand? Or does he have some way of stashing his axe without carrying it?)

As Bane approached the empty camp site, he could hear the distant bleating of goats upon the wind, as well as the sound of foot falls on the packed dirt trail ahead. By the time he entered the camp, he could see the woman known as Lyn running towards the camp from the west, weaving between the wooden stakes that had been arrayed over a sixty foot stretch between the camp's primary barricade and the open plains beyond. Hot on her tail was a demon as big as Bane with the fur and head of a goat, chasing the woman with a large scythe poised in the air, ready to sweep down on her if he could only get close enough.

As Lyn ran back towards the camp, she found that the trouble with trying to lure her enemy into a trap was that she couldn't quickly tell where they were either. At least, anything immediately visible to Lyn would also be visible to the goatman, Aleph, except for anything that was hidden by her body blocking his view. Most of the camp's defenses were in the form of caltrops, small holes, and stakes, intended to slow down attackers so that Flavie would have more time to shoot them. With some careful footwork, she was able to skirt close to a stake and dance over a field of foot-sized pits in the ground. With Aleph concentrating on the rogue's fleeing backside, he spotted the cluster of pits too late. One hoof sank into a hole, and he tripped forward onto his knees. With a bleating growl of frustration, he lunged out with his scythe and tried to hook Lyn's ankles with the blade, hoping to trip her up as well.

Cato, upon realizing the illusion was exactly that, snorted contemptuously and rushed to Aleph's aid, coming up slowly behind him but watching Lyn, getting ready to dodge if he had to. Cato was a few inches shorter than Aleph, and appeared a bit more nimble. In addition, his smaller weapon gave him more freedom to put out his arms for balance.

Humans are capital letters, demons are lower case:B = BaneL = LynI = illusiona = Alephb = Boruktac = Catod = Daedalus{} is Flavie's tent@ is the fire pit: and . are stakes in the ground\ and / and | are short wooden walls~ is water# is dense shrubbery or rocks

-- Abandoned House --

Erin managed to get the corrupted rogue's wrists tied up above her head, and was working on her right leg when she came back to her senses. Looking up at him with bright red eyes and snarling, she started struggling, and kicked out at him with her free left leg.

(The battle ax is straped this his back while his claymore is held in one hand, I did forget where to pot the woodcutter ax so i will say is on the belt, the wooden handle in between the body and the belt to keep it with him. Not sure how else to explain it but thats how i have it at the momment.)

As Ban have finaly came to the camp he notice it was very small and didn't look much but those thoughts put to the back of his mind when he seen what was going on ahead of him. He have heard the sounds of goats and wonder if this camp had some walking around but after seening a goat like demon then he understood what he was hearing. Now this demon looked more to be worth his time, it was bag as him and looked to be strong as well. However he also seen a woman running from the demon, she didn't look like Flavie unless she changed her hair color some how and this one is more useing a bow.

He would ask quesitons later but right now hes really to send some demons back to hell, he quickly ran towards the other end of the camp and as he did he pulls out a throwing dagger, once on the other end of the camp he throws it at the demon who seem to just fall on the ground, making it a better target for his throwing weapons.The dagger wasn't aim at any body part but rather just at the demon and hope it would do some damage. Range weapons was his strong point but still he tryed if it was to help the woman get clear of the demon faster and he would start moving forword as well unless she told him otherwise.

(Lyn scouted out the traps before the fight, she as going off memory as to where they were, mostly. )

-- Flavie's Camp --

Lyn had turned around once reaching the traps. She was five feet away from the creature, out of arms reach, but knew she could still be reached by a weapon. Even a short sword could reach five feet away, when accounting for the wielder's arm adding to it's range. So the following attack was not too much of a surprise. Seeing as the goat demon fell into the trap Lyn went with plan A. Having already prepared and lined up her shot in her previous actions as soon as he started to fall she let her arrow go, firing at where his head would be when he fell. His following attack, that he would have time to get off before the arrow hit (if it did), would catch her slightly off guard though. She would jump to evade it, but with all the traps surrounding her she wold promptly fall on her ass when she tried to land without stepping on one. Lyn was quick to start getting up though.

She did, also, notice the knife and spotted the man who had thrown it. In an instant a clone of Lyn jumped up from where she had been standing, with an arrow notched in it's bow, and the bow pointed at Bane. The copy looked to be ready to fire at him, but it didn't shoot. It was just stating without words that she did not trust the man and did not want him getting too close to her. The real Lyn was still in the middle of getting up though.

When Lyn summoned another copy of herself the first one that had been standing by Cato dispelled itself.

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The corrupted rogue hissed back and continued struggling, working up a ball of bloody spit in her mouth and launching it at her captor.

-- Flavie's Camp --

Aleph reflexively tilted his head to the side slightly when he saw the arrow coming loose from the bow. He had only enough time to shift it a couple inches, but it was enough to evade a killing blow. Rather than piercing his brain, the arrow grazed his cheek and tore up the side of his face. Blinded by having turned his head, the goatman could not aim his strike very well, but the sweeping motion didn't require much precision to be effective. It was just high enough from the ground that Lyn had to leap to avoid it. Seeing as there was a sharpened stake nearby behind her, she had to twist in mid-air and come down awkwardly, which did indeed throw her off balance.

Just as Lyn started stumbling, Bane's dagger flew through the air beside her. Prone on the ground, Aleph was an easy target, and the dagger stuck into his flank firmly. The wound would have incapacitated an ordinary human, but this demon from the burning hells seemed to be possessed of adrenaline enough that he just looked up at Bane and made a noise like an enraged camel. The goatman started pushing himself onto his hooves again, raising his scythe in the air above him.

As Cato approached closer, he saw the presence of the second human, and bleated out a warning to his comrades far behind. Wrapping his left hand around one of the stakes, he crouched slightly, watching the ground between him and Lyn, as well as the movement of both humans.

As he was getting closer Bane seen the woman just standing up or that he knew of anyways with a bow pointed at him. "You dont look like Flavie unless you some how change your self from a red head to what you are now. Commander Kashya told me how to get here and I came to see if anything interesting was happening here, it seems I haven't miss the fun." he said with a grin as Aleph raise his scythe over his head. "How about we deal with the demons first then worry about trusting each other?" he asked her though his eyes were still on the demon.

Bane held where he was at for the moment, he waited for the demon to attack him in order to make his move. The way it stands now Bane would side step to ether side of the demon on the mid swing of the scyle. As Bane does this he would swing his sword and body in a full circle in hopes that the blade of his claymore would hit the demon from behind. The swing would be coming around the middle of the demon so it could cut the demon in half if his attack goes though.

Lyn silently cussed when she saw the creature dodge her shot, and as she heard both of them shouting which she assumed to be a call for reinforcements. She was not at all interested in a prolonged fight with these things, she just wanted to save whatever it was they had behind those rocks. She saw Aleph starting to stand up, and heard Bane's statement. "There is nothing 'fun' here... And I do not know who you are talking about." She stated, the names did sound familiar though. She considered sending him to the rocks to find out what was there, but... Then again he couldn't be trusted. What if there really was someone there that was under attack? She didn't know if the man would help them or not, he did just say that killing things was fun after all, such a violent man. People are not to be trusted, people lie, people cheat, people are creatures who live purely off selfish desires, people are nearly as bad as the demons. That was something she had learned in her life, and a lesson she based her judgments on. It was also why she opted to travel alone.

She dispelled the illusion of herself that was pointing it's bow at Bane, making it disappear. It had never been real and couldn't have hurt him anyways. She would still attack him if she thought he was coming after her though. Her mind was still locked on the sound of a woman behind the rocks though. "Get these things off me, someone is behind those rocks and needs help." She instructed, basically explaining her plan. She hoped the man would keep the beasts away from her so she could move in to assist whoever was behind the rocks. As soon as she was on her feet she, for the moment, put her trust into the stranger to cover her back. And began backing off towards him. She did not take her focus off the goatmen, but was watching him out of the corner of her eye and would not get too close to Bane. Notching another arrow in her bow, but waiting for a more opportune moment to fire.

« Last Edit: September 09, 2013, 12:30:18 pm by Viante »

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My characters/k-lists. (Click on the character names for their k-list and profile.) Kaolin, Lyn, Elladine

My group RP, a openworld/sandbox fantasy/modern RP with a deep plot and lore, and nearly infinite possibilities. Join us, we're always looking for new players, creativity is encouraged.

(Zellsantal, remember that talking takes a lot more time than fighting, and you only have about 3 seconds of fight time per post. So try not to include speech that takes longer than 3 seconds to say. After the fight you can take more time to talk.)

Bane and Lyn seemed to trade places as the big barbarian advanced on Aleph while the rogue withdrew. Aleph had gotten back up to his feet as Bane was closing in, and made a downward strike upon him, aiming the tip of the scythe blade at the centre of Bane's chest; a very different strategy than he had used against Lyn. Bane timed his sidestep well enough that Aleph's scythe blade missed and came down beside him. When the demon saw that he had missed, he quickly turned to face where Bane was going and stepped backwards, putting his scythe out in front of him in defence. Bane's claymore struck solidly against the haft of Aleph's scythe, which cracked slightly from the impact, but remained solid. Maintaining contact, Aleph twisted and tried to push Bane's sword off to the side, so that the goatman would have a chance to regain his balance. He then pushed forward, trying to spear him with the blunt wooden end.

While the two behemoths battled, Cato seized this moment to rush forward and join the fray. Avoiding the clash of large weapons, Cato snuck around behind Aleph and made a dash at Lyn, trying to catch her while she was still notching her arrow, though the distance was a bit too far for him to reach her in time, unless she made a mistake.

-- Abandoned House --

This punch that came down on the corrupted rogue was hard enough to dizzy her for a bit. Her head rolled to the side again and her leg went limp briefly, giving Erin time to restrain it. She continued to huff and grunt and bleed between her teeth, but her capacity to struggle was waning.

Bane only gave a low growl that his attack didn't go though or even break the weapon for that matter. However it only means this fight would take a bit longer then he thought. With the maneuver the demon done it would froce him to let go of his claymore and at the moment have no weapon at hand, but what the demon didn't know was that he open an window of opportunity for Bane. The barbarian quickly ducked under the demon's attack and he himself push forword, with both arms he trys to take hold of the demon's waist and to tackle the demon to the ground. Bane would after words try to get pin him down enough that he would start being the shit out of the demon's face.

Lyn did take note of how the goatmen changed to a much more violent and deadly fighting style when it began attacking Bane. It bothered her that these creatures were, for some reason unknown to her, trying not to kill her. It made her feel rather bad about killing them. But, then again, if she ever figured out why they weren't trying to kill her she probably wouldn't feel so bad about it. She kept her bow notched and ready. She was going to fire at Aleph since he was distracted and a open target. But when she saw Bane's attempt to tackle the beast she held her fire, she didn't want to hit Bane by mistake and it was too risky to fire when the man was trying to grapple the creature.

There really was no mistakes to be made in notching an arrow, so she had it pulled back by the time Cato had come after her. But, she also knew that just blindly firing at the speedy guy would most likely result in a miss and a wasted arrow. She was sure he would dodge if she fired at him right now, since there was nothing stopping him from doing so. So, that altered her plan of attack slightly. She used her illusion magic to make the sound of the bow firing, and to make a fake arrow fire at Cao's chest, looking as if she had fired her bow. The fake arrow was just an illusion though and could not harm him. Then right as she did that she spun her body around, for a moment looking like she was turning to run, but instead turning 360 degrees. The spin was to try and hide the fact that she still had the real arrow notched in her bow, he could see that she hadn't fired it. She hoped the spin would mask that, and that the fake arrow would seem real enough to pull his attention off her and make him dodge. She was relying on the fake arrow and the spin to take his eyes off the real arrow, much like a magician or thief used fancy movements and slight of hand tricks to draw people's attention away from what they were really doing.

Right after the spin she fired the real arrow, hoping she could catch him in the middle of dodging the fake arrow so she could catch him off guard. She tried to fire at his chest for a kill shot, but she didn't have time too aim after the spin and missed his chest. The arrow ended up being aimed at his shoulder instead.

« Last Edit: September 11, 2013, 09:52:25 am by Viante »

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My characters/k-lists. (Click on the character names for their k-list and profile.) Kaolin, Lyn, Elladine

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Ordinarily, taking the time to spin during a fight was a surefire way to for a warrior to give her enemy a free shot at her exposed back. However, the illusory arrow that Lyn fired had more or less the effect she desired. It in fact was too fast for Cato to dodge, though he tried. Rather, the belief that he was about to be struck caused him to instinctively lean on his heels, as if expecting to be knocked onto his back from the hit. In the time it took him to figure out that he hadn't been shot, Lyn had already completed her spin, and she was still just out of the reach of his club. In the split second that followed, Cato desperately lunged forward to try to hit the rogue before she could fire, and at the same time Lyn's arrow was released, striking him square in the right shoulder as the momentum of her spin threw it off in that direction. The force of the hit threw the goatman off balance and negated the attack he was about to make. As his body started twisting from the impact and falling sideways, he reached out desperately with his open left hand to try to grab her bow.

Aleph was clearly not expecting Bane to drop his sword and rush into a clinch. The goatman found himself easily pushed off balance by Bane's sudden assault. The hooves on which Aleph stood were not ideal for sprawling against a grapple, and so both demon and human fell to the ground with a thud. Aleph bleated harshly as his body impacted the packed dirt beneath him, and a bit of blood sprayed up from his open face wound to splatter onto Bane's cheek and shoulder. Still clutching his scythe, Aleph was not prepared to wrestle. He belatedly decided to drop the weapon, and his hands then shot upwards and grasped at Bane's shoulders or forearms, whichever he was able to reach, depending on Bane's position above him.

Once the demon was down Bane seen and felt the bit of blood that came from the demon's mouth, he didn't worry about the blood but as he could tell the demon didn't see that move coming which gave the large human the advantage now. Quickly Bane pulls out a second throwing dagger but being in this close range he would use it differently. After slideing out his dagger he would stabe the demon's side a few times, it would not kill the demon but hirt it and slow it down so if it did try to get way it would have a hard time moveing. Meanwhile his other arm still wraped around the demon to keep it pin down, the demon might able to get out of the hold if it can out strength Bane's hold.

Lyn was relieved that her plan worked, sortof, not exactly the way she wanted it to since she missed her mark but it sortof worked. She was about to back away again to regain her distance but before she had much of a chance to move the goatman had grabbed her bow. Causing her to let out a startled eep. She tightened her grip on the bow, but she knew she was lacking in strength and couldn't win a battle of strength. She had to end this quickly or at least make the thing let go. Her other hand flew past her hips, grabbing one of her sai as it lunged at the goatman. The three pronged dagger was not meant for attacking, it was a weapon meant for blocking, but the point was sharp enough to pierce skin, just not as well as a normal dagger. Lyn would aim to stab her sai into the goatman's throat, or, of he landed on his stomach she would aim at the back of his neck where the skull met the spine. Both were killing blows.

(Link, incase you don't know what a sai is. It tends to confuse a lot of people)

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When Aleph saw Bane pull the dagger out, he prepared himself to protect his throat. Thus, the demon was unable to prevent the barbarian from jamming the blade into his leathery side. It let out a pained bleat at the strike. So wounded was the goatman now that he could not put out enough strength to resist Bane's hold. Instead, he threw a punch upward at Bane's kidney, a desperate gamble in hopes that he would disrupt his attacker enough to get away.

Cato, though he had been knocked off his hooves, was still perceptive and quick enough to see the sai attack coming. As his body impacted the ground, he bucked his head about wildly, causing the tip of the weapon to miss the precise killing point. Instead it pushed against the tough hide on the side of his neck and glanced off. A repeated strike, however, caught him more deeply, and pierced into the back of his neck. His left hand flailed up weakly at Lyn's body, but soon went limp. The goatman snorted and bled on the ground, apparently paralyzed from the neck down.

Bane felt the demon ram it's fist at his kidney area, the attack only made his grip tighter. He might be sore after this but still he would make sure this demon wouldn't get away so easly. Bane took the pain from the attack as he then took the dagger and would stabe it at the demon's leg. If he happen to do it being this close he would drag the dagger down in order to make a long deep cut on the demons leg so even if it could get out of Bane's grip it would move slow or should at the very lest.

The demon twisted and growled with the fury of a pinned horse, kicking and thrashing despite its debilitating wounds. Vile black blood began to flow out all over the ground and Bane's leg from a long deep cut that he made in Aleph's leg. Howling at the pain, the goatman twisted his body and wrapped both hands around Bane's arm to lock it up and prevent him from stabbing again with it. With the twist of his body he tried to pull the arm under him and roll the barbarian off to the side.

Lyn continued to stab at Cato's face and neck until the demon stopped moving, save for the twitching of its hooves. Catching her breath, she looked over at the struggle still going on between Bane and Aleph, and quickly reached for the bow that she had dropped.

Bane knew this demon now would have a harder time fighting so it was no point in trying to use the dagger any longer. he let go of the dagger which it still stabed in the demon's leg and at the same time his other arm let go around the demon's waist. He let the demon think it had the upper hand but his arm that held it's waist quickly move to where he would punch the demon in the balls or at the very lest to it's side to knock the wind out of it.

The demon snorted and grunted loudly in pain as it was struck in the balls, and before it could think about trying to fight back, Lyn's boot came down on the goatman's collarbone. Aleph looked up just in time to see the rogue standing over him release an arrow from her bow that pierced it in the eye, killing it.

The rogue looked from the dead demon up to Bane, as if deciding what to make of the barbarian. Before he could get up, she decided to step away from the dead goatman and nock another arrow, in case the stranger turned out to be hostile.

(hopefully Viante will reappear to continue playing Lyn. I don't want to assume too much about her personality)

Bane was caught by surprise when he seen a foot come out of no were, and seen it was the female from before. When she shot the demon with an arrow he was a bit disapointed that she killed it before he did but he would let it go, after all he was the one too slow to kill his demon. There be others, plus if he wasn't here to keep this one off her she might have been a goner anyways so it makes them even or so he thought anyways. "Any more of them?" he asked as he was getting up from the ground. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she still think he's not one to be trusted, he can understand that and might do the same. He wouldn't push his luck even though he did just help her out but he still didn't see the red head that he was suppose to met up with and wounder if shes dead or these demon's doing something else to her.

(understood, he might be having too much on his plate right now sense he is runing his own group rp.)

So there are more around, on top of that this woman said some one else there as well. With that in mind he figure a guess of what might have happen. Flavie more likely was ambushed by these demons and their having there way with her or was until this bow woman came and the few that went away though they would get another human female for there fun or meal for that matter. With that in mind it all made sense and if indeed there are two more then that means ether the woman he was to fine is ether dead or being fucked by the demons. He didn't bother to get his weapons that are on the ground just yet for time is at the essence, picking up his weapons would wast time so insted he unhook his battle ax from his back and start heading for were the bow woman pointed. He gave a nod in reply just before passing by her in an all out run.

An all out run was limited by the stakes and pits that had been placed along this path, but with some careful footwork and no distractions, Bane was able to step around them until he could reach the open plains, where the cluster of rocks and bushes came into view. Lyn followed swiftly behind, but kept her distance from him, expecting to cover his advance with her bow.

As soon as Bane stepped around a particularly leafy bush and got a full view of the rock cluster, he also came into full view of a goatman who was standing there with bow in hand, waiting for him. This was Borukta, the one injured by Lyn earlier, who must have somehow healed his wounds through magic and gotten back up to fight. Upon seeing the barbarian rushing forward, the goatman released an arrow he had ready, aiming for the center of his broad chest.

Once Bane came around a bush he right away seen the demon goatman just ahead of him and seen him fireing his bow. Though the barbarian was still rushing though he quickly let himself fall and slide along the ground just enough that the arrior would fly by just above him. He might have scraps becuase of the slide but he can deal with that if it met not geting hit by an arriow which would be much worst. He hoped at lest that the arrior wouldn have hit the bow womab that was behind him and that hopfuly she saw as well so she could get the idea that she might have to come some were else to attack.

There was enough of an angle on the shot that Lyn was not in the line of fire. Bane's quick thinking saved him from being struck, but it also slowed him down as he would need to take more time to get up. During this time, the goatman hurried to notch another arrow in his bow.

Following behind Bane, Lyn ducked under the branches of a nearby shrub, and took aim at the goatman. The shot skittered off the boulder he was using for cover, but it made him duck, which slowed down his reload and gave Bane enough time to get back to his feet.

While Lyn started to draw another arrow from her quiver and make a dash to her right, the fourth goatman, Daedalus, appeared from behind the shrubs. He had one strong left arm locked around the neck of a ragged red haired woman, Flavie, and he was holding her in front of him like a human shield while he gripped his club in his right hand. Flavie was cut and bruised in many places, and covered in dirt and semen, notably on her face, chest, and legs. She looked unable to stand if not for the demon holding her up by her neck. She was trying to struggle free of his grasp, but was too weak and injured to do any more than slow him down a bit.

With Lyn giving him cover fire he wasn't worryed too much about the demon shooting another arrow. He hoped that the bow woman would still gove him cover fire until he at lest got close enough to kill the demon on site or at lest keep it bussy at the very else so she could get a better shot. He have thought of getting his last throwing dagger out but if he did that might make him move slower and giving the demon more of a clear shot. Insteed once he was up and runing again he would zig zag his movement so the demon wouldn't get a clear shot.

As Bane started running forward again, Borukta stood back up and took aim with his bow. Lyn was still hurrying to load another arrow, so the goatman had a shot. He tried to lead Bane, shooting at where he thought the barbarian was going to step to, but Bane's reflexes were quick enough to turn just short of that spot, making the arrow go wide. Bane was able to advance to within ten yards by the time Borukta could ready another arrow.

Not wishing to take on the barbarian toe to toe with only a short club, Daedalus dragged Flavie forward and then pushed her into Bane's path, hoping that he would have to pause and turn to avoid slicing the woman on his axe blade, which would slow him down some more. The red haired rogue stumbled forward into the barbarian, flailing her arms to try to stop herself from fallling by hanging onto his shoulders.

When Lyn had gotten another arrow ready and pulled back the string on her bow, Bane had gotten too close to the goatmen for her to get a clear shot at the archer, Borukta. But now that Flavie had been freed, she got an easier line of fire on Daedalus, and loosed an arrow into the demon's shoulder that sent him lurching and spinning to try to keep his balance.

Bane was about to make his move until a woman woman was pushed in his wait, it was then he notice a second demon with a club who push the woman at him. Dame cowords using a human woman as a shield, however what they did worked well. Bane drop the throwing dagger to the ground and use that arm to catch, he was going to use it at the demon with the bow to buy him some more time but becuse of this he would more likely get shot. That was fine by him for it was better him then the woman herself, after catching her he right away twist his body so he would gently put the woman down on the ground and ready himself for any thing that would hit him.

Lyn's eyes narrowed when she saw the injured woman being dragged out by the last goatman and then thrown at Bane as if she were a weapon. She noticed that Bane was left wide open by that move and knew she needed to cover for the man. She narrowed her eyes a little when Bane just put the woman down, Lyn did not agree with such actions but now was not the time to argue. If she wanted it done her way she'd need to do it herself. But, first things first, she needed to make sure the guy didn't get shot since she needed his cover.

It was that archer again, the other one was wounded and less likely to attack right away. With a wave of her arm Lyn tapped into her illusionary magic again, this time making the archer's bow suddenly burst into flames. She did not have the time, nor the energy to make the illusion perfect. The fire did not smell like fire nor did it make the usual sounds of a fire burning. Although Borukta could feel the heat of the flames and would feel like his hand was burning. He would not, however, feel any real pain nor would it really burn his hand since the fire was not real and it could not actually burn him. He may, or may not, feel perceived pain though. Pain that came from thinking you were hurt, which was not real pain but instead was your own mind tricking you. As she made the illusion, she darted out from behind cover, making a bees-line for the woman on the ground. It wasn't the most tactical move ever, and she knew that. But she needed to get the woman to safety even if it meant putting herself at risk.

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Lyn's timely illusion might have saved Bane's life. As the goat archer was drawing back his bow and lining up a shot at the stooping barbarian's neck, the appearance of flames startled him just enough to make him jerk his arm upwards a little in confusion. He soon figured out that the fire was not real, but the visual distraction was enough to throw off his precision. Pressured to take a shot anyways before Bane could get back up, Borukta loosed an arrow in the barbarian's direction, but it only grazed the top of his shoulder, cutting open the skin but not doing any significant damage to the muscle. Now in a precarious position, the archer backed away behind cover while hastily drawing another arrow.

Daedalus was left alone in the open, and got back up to his feet at about the same time that Bane had finished laying Flavie down on the ground. When Borukta backed off, Daedalus made a rush at Bane, trying to catch him off balance as he swung his club at the man's head.

From her position on the ground, Flavie tried her best to roll out of harm's way, putting her faith in the two other humans to keep the demons busy, at least long enough for her to get to her feet and escape.

Feeling only a nick to his back but nothing that seem that would do great harm to him, Bane quickly turn right after setting the woman down only to see a demon with a club aiming at his head. The Barbarian quickly duck just in time to let the club went pass his head and with that he quickly leped back. Baned then look up at the demon that he is fighting now and readys his ax for an attack, he start walking around the demon in a circle waiting for the demon to make it's move once more and this time he would be ready for it.

Lyn was glad to see that her plan had worked, and equally glad to see that the woman seemed to be able to move. Although, at the same time, she was also disappointed that the barbarian didn't focus down the archer while it was vulnerable. Lyn shook off that thought though, she couldn't expect everyone to be tactical, and it wasn't like she wasn't making a bad move herself. She rushed straight to the injured woman, instantly reaching out to try and grab the woman's arm to help her get up. "Are you alright? Can you walk?" She asked hurriedly. "Do not worry about your injuries I am a healer."

She was keeping a close watch on the archer and was preparing to dodge as soon as the goatman aimed in her direction. If it aimed at her, she would wait a brief second before jumping a couple feet to the side regardless of if the goatman fired or not. She was attempting to predict the goatman's move, thinking that since she was standing still out in the open the goatman wouldn't take more then a second to aim and fire. If her prediction was right she would end off dodging out of the way just as the goatman released the arrow. She would only do this if the goatman aimed at her though, and she was careful to make sure to position herself in a way that Flavie would not be in the line of fire if the goatman aimed at Lyn.

« Last Edit: October 15, 2013, 03:25:18 pm by Viante »

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Flavie could not answer Lyn. When she opened her mouth to speak, all she could do was cough. Her tongue and lips were white from the amount of semen that had filled her mouth since the goatmen had first captured her.

Daedalus was hesitant to attack Bane again, knowing his club was too short and not very deadly compared to the heavy axe that Bane was carrying. But as they circled a bit further, he saw a better option, when there became a clear path for him to charge at Lyn and Flavie together. Turning his back to Bane, the goatman barrelled towards Lyn with his club held high, expecting to tackle her if she stood her ground, or swing his club at her if she tried to dodge.

Borukta the archer had spent these few seconds hiding behind cover, expecting to be attacked, but now that he had readied another arrow, he peeked out and drew his bow string back. Unfortunately for him, everyone was now crowded too close together for him to get a good shot without risk of hitting his comrade, so he waited for one human or the other to break away from the melee, saving this currently strung arrow for his own personal defence. If he could just kill the male and disable the female somehow, he would have two beautiful prisoners all to himself.

Bane watched an waited for the demon to make a move, he knew that he might be leaving himself open for the other demon but still if he let this one in front of him go he would attack the woman. He that this almost might leave the women open for the demon as well and in a sense he was counting on it to go for the women so he could rush over and attack it before it could do anything. That moment came when the demon went after the women and it was his chance, at the same time the demon rushed to them he rush over to it. Quickly once Bane was close enough he swing his Ax with all his strength in hopes that it hit at it's side and ether do some major damage to it's side or cut the demon in two.

Lyn's eyes widened when she saw the goatman rushing her, but she couldn't say she didn't expect such a thing to happen. She had been just hoping moments ago that her partner would employ the same tactic so naturally she saw that one coming. But, that didn't negate the bad position she was in. Silently cursing her compulsion to help others which got her into this bad position she did her best to make good of it. There was no tine to get an arrow ready and she noticed her ally running in to target this goatman, so Lyn moved to attempt to dodge the charge by running to the side. She would scoop up Flavie, picking the woman up in a bridal carry and would run in the direction of Bane, counting on him to cover her. Flavie wasn't moving, and Lyn didn't want the woman to get hit. She already knew she was going to regret that later, the fragile woman was pushing her body way beyond it's limits by trying to carry another human. She may not feel it now due to adrenaline, but she knew she was hurting herself by carrying Flavie. But, then again, that was just the type of person she was. When someone else was in danger, all notion of self preservation went out the window in order to protect said person.

If the goatman attempted to swing at her before Bane got there she would try to hop out of the way. Hopping not to the side, but further away from the goatman to try and get out of his reach. With her limited dodging abilities while carrying the woman if she couldn't get out of the way she would at least turn herself to make sure Flavie didn't get hit, even if it meant taking the full blow herself.

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Lyn managed to get her head out of the way of the goatman's swing as she lunged away from him with Flavie in her arms. That saved the rogue from potentially being knocked out. Instead, the head of the club came down behind her shoulders with a loud thump that Lyn could tell was going to hurt later after the adrenaline goes away. Lyn found herself knocked forward, balancing precariously with Flavie's weight in front of her and in danger of toppling over her.

It was that small pause that the goatman took to swing his club that Bane needed to gain the last several inches on his target to connect with a solid hit. The axe blade buried deep into the side of the demon's ribcage with a sickening sound, splattering bright red arterial blood all over the ground and over the head of the weapon. The goatman tried to bleat out a death rattle, but his lung had been cleft in two, and he only gurgled as his lifeless body flopped to the ground.

Borukta chose this as his moment to pop up from cover and shoot, burying his arrow deep in Bane's right arm as the barbarian was following through with his swing. The jagged iron tip tore through his tricep, missed the bone, and popped out the other side, so that the shaft of the arrow was still embedded in his muscle.

Bane knew he was cuting it close, he knew if he didn't go after the one with the club the demons could use the women as a sheild and he couldn't have that. He was greatful he was able to kill the demon before it could attack again with the club, the women were lucky the demon missed only becuse it was in a rush. It was then he felt the arrow hit his arm and made the barbarin gave a loud painful gut, quickly turning around and looking at his arm he seen the arrow deep in his arm. However the woundn't stop him from going after the demon, in truth he forgotten about that one and figure it would turn tail. Bane was going let it go it if turn to flee for its life but now it sealed its death, with a war cry Bane pull rush over to the demon and once he get close enough he would cut it to pieces. Bane would worry about the wound after the last demon is dead and to make sure the women were alright as well.

Lyn let out a yelp of pain as she was hit, she did feel the pain from that blow, adrenaline could only buffer so much. The fragile woman without a doubt knew her shoulder was broken, her body wasn't built to take a hit. She did not fall over though, being skilled in parkour she knew how to keep her footing and while she stumbled around for a moment she was otherwise alright and remained on her feet. The sharp pain in her shoulder made her have to put Flavie down though, leaving her with a quick decision to make. She needed to get Flavie out of here, but the woman was not running away on her own. Lyn wondered why but decided that Flavie must be wounded and unable to run or something.

But, with her new injury Lyn knew she couldn't carry Flavie out of here. Weighing her few options for getting Flavie out of danger, she decided that there was only one left. Placing Flavie down on the ground she murmured "Relax, I am a healer." and placed a hand on the woman's stomach. It was unlike any healing spell seen before, and infact went against what was known about healing magic at the time. A white aura formed around Lyn's body, then a moment later another white aura formed around Flavie's body, connected only by the hand that was touching Flavie's stomach.

Within a second, every wound, injury, illness, status effect, and any other negative effects on Flavie would disappear instantly. All of them emitting what looked like a puff of blood red smoke from the part of the body they originated from. It was like every injury and illness she had just disappeared in that puff of smoke, and even her energy was restored. That blood red puff of smoke seemed to fill the white aura around Flavie, turning it blood red. Then, it all seemed to shoot through Lyn's arm and into her aura, leaving Flavie's aura white again, and turning Lyn's blood red instead. It all happened in just a second or two, then Lyn took her hand off Flavie and the woman's aura disappeared. Once the connection was broken the blood red smoke in Lyn's aura surged into Lyn's body, making Lyn cringe seemingly in pain before her aura also disappeared.

It had only been a mater of seconds and all of Flavie's injuries and illnesses were gone. She was in perfect health again and her energy was restored. There was no such thing as healing magic that could instantly heal wounds and restore people like that. If there was, humans would be pretty much immortal and unbeatable which they obviously weren't. But, then again, Lyn had just used such a spell. Or, did she? While Flavie was in perfect health, Lyn seemed to be in much worse shape then she was before. Lyn seemed exhausted, appeared to be in a lot more pain now and she seemed to be bleeding from all the same places Flavie had been bleeding from before. What Lyn used was no healing spell, she hadn't healed anything at all, she simply moved the injuries elsewhere and restored Flavie's energy with her own. If Lyn's clothes hadn't covered so much of her body, it would have been be easy to see that all of Flavie's previous injuries were now inflicted on Lyn instead. But alas, Lyn always wore modest clothing that covered as much skin as possible so those new wounds were not visible.

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Lyn felt as though her entire body was being held together by string and tape. If she had an intact hymen before casting that spell, it became well torn following the transfer. Soreness permeated all the way up her vagina, and her colon as well, and her throat felt like sandpaper, snuffing out anything she would try to say until she could get some real healing. Her arms and legs felt like jelly, barely responsive, and she could no longer stand or defend herself.

Flavie seemed surprised to find her body so quickly repaired and revitalized with the energy of another young woman. It took her a moment to realize that she could stand up and, more than that, she could speak and perhaps join the fight. Her naked body was still filthy and covered in dried semen, but this miserable state no longer impeded her actions. As she turned to Lyn to thank her, Flavie's face took on an expression of horror to see the rogue drop limply to the ground. She had no more time to grieve, as she saw Bane's injury and remembered that there was still another demon threatening them. Gritting her teeth at the goatman, she drew the sai from Lyn's belt and stood up, ready to avenge herself.

This all happened while Bane was already rushing at the goatman. The swing of his axe was weakened greatly by the injury to his arm, and spikes of pain shot through him every time he tried to heft the weapon in both hands. He could try to fight one handed, but this would make his attacks much slower and less precise. However, the goatman was unarmed once his bow became useless at close range, and he was forced to stagger backwards to escape the clumsy swing of Bane's axe. Bleating desperately, the goatman cast his bow aside and grasped the haft of Bane's axe with both hands and tugged on it, trying to wrench it out of the barbarian's hands.

Bane felt the pain on his arm and knew he wouldn't do too well because of the pain, he didn't think it was that bad but right now hes fighting the pain just so he could fight off the demon. However the barbarin cursed when the demon was able to stop his attack by taking hold of his axe's half. The demon would more likely able to yank the weapon out of his arms sense one is wounded he wouldn't able to hold it for long but then that gave him an idea. Bane again fight off the pain try to pull the weapon out of the demon's hands but what the demon dosen't know is when it tryes to yank it out of Bane's hands he would let go of the weapon. He hopes in doing so would surprized the demon and making it stumble backwords just enough for Bane to tackle it to the ground.

Bane's trick worked, and the goatman stumbled backwards, axe in hand, and reeled to regain his balance. The demon was soon tackled to the ground, but the impact sent another wave of pain shooting through Bane's injured right arm, and a spurt of blood shooting across the ground. Trying to take advantage of this, the goatman grabbed onto the feathered end of the arrow still stuck in the man, and pulled on it side to side while using his right arm to clinch with the barbarian, still hanging onto the axe but squeezing the left side of Bane's body between the pommel and the demon's furry chest.

Flavie hustled up behind the barbarian and quickly grabbed at the axe with her left hand. Sai raised in her right hand to strike at the entangled goatman, the naked rogue glared furiously into its red eyes and bared her teeth. She hesitated for a moment, to make sure she wouldn't accidentally strike Bane instead.

Lyn, meanwhile, was so damaged by the spell she cast that she could do little to influence events.

The impact to the ground didn't feel that bad as he had wounds like this before while fighting in the arena but still he would need to take care of the wound right away when this fight was over. However Bane scream in pain as this demon got a hold of the arrow that was still sticking in his arm, he knew he should have just pulled it out of his arm and just what pain might give him and now the demon got him half were he wanted. Lucky for him the demon still not able to use his axe fully with only one hand but still the demon is trying to get him to where it could. However it was then he seen Flavie got a hold of his axe from the demon and see ready to strike but waiting, he figure she didn't want to hit him by accident but in this case she would have to take that chance. Bane had something in mind for this demon sense it was giving him to much pain with his arm then he would do some in another way, he didn't like doing this but at the same time the demon had it coming and it would more then his arm or hoped so at lest. He slams his fist at the demon's balls and hit it again a secend time with a open hand and grip the demon's balls with a strong grip and squeezing with all his might to crush the demon's balls in hope it would want to try to push away from Bane or so to give Flavie the opening she needs.

When Lyn took on the wounds Flavie had she did collapse to the ground, but that didn't surprise her Lyn knew what she was doing when she used that spell. What did surprise her, however, was that most of the pain was coming from her womanhood and her ass. That was something she had never seen coming and still did not quite understand what happened. Sex, of course, came to mind. But she never would have imagined the monsters doing such a thing. And why did her ass hurt? She tried to crawl away and properly heal herself, but she was too exhausted to move, and judging by the damage to her body, she knew this would take at least a few hours to heal, she didn't have nearly enough energy to keep her healing magic up for that long. One of her hands had shot between her legs in shock when she suddenly felt unexpected pain down there.

Pain she could tough out, sortof, if it was just the pain she probably cold have crawled away. But she drained all of her energy to restore Flaive's energy, so she could no longer move. She curled up into a ball, the best form of self defense she could accomplish at the moment, and otherwise did not move. She looked dead or unconscious but she was awake and alert to her surroundings, she just couldn't move.

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The demon bleated in shock from having its balls squeezed, and its voice was soon cut short when Flavie jammed Lyn's sai into his eye socket. Unfamiliar with the foreign weapon, she just gripped it like a dagger and plunged it into the goatman's face again and again until it stopped moving and went limp in Bane's arms.

Amid the boulders and shrubs was a patch of mossy ground where Flavie had been gang raped by the four demons. There were spots of bare dirt where her hands and knees had rubbed and stripped the moss away, and there were also cum stains all over the ground. Nestled against one of the boulders was a sash with some potions in it, and Flavie was first to seize it, going straight for it. "This!", she announced, her bare chest still heaving from the excitement of battle. She held up the sash in one hand and turned to face Bane, "They used these ta keep me alive when I shoulda been dead". Her accent was clearly Scottish, and her tone was bitter. Despite having endured what must have been an awful experience, her soldierly mind was focused stoically on the matters pressing at hand. She counted the three bottles in the sash and fished out one full of red liquid. "This for yer arm", she told Bane, handing the bottle to him, "The rest be needed for the lass out there".

Without wasting another moment, she rushed to check on Lyn. The two potions remaining in the sash were for healing and mana, and she administered both to the brave girl in succession. "Many thanks, stranger", she whispered as she held Lyn's head up to keep her from choking.

Aside from the sash of potions, and some empty flasks, there was little else. Flavie's leather armour was torn to shreds upon the ground, and her bow had a snapped string. Borukta's bow was still intact, and it bore a single empty socket above the grip, where a gem could be infused. Daedalus' club looked ordinary, and the other two demons had dropped their weapons farther away.

At the moment the demon finaly went limp he leg go of the foul thing and gets on up on his feet. Once he did he seen the red head woman gets out what looks to be a potion, listening to Flavie before taking the bottle itself. Bane got a good look at her even though she was naked she was still coverd in demon cum, if not for that he might have try getting a piece of her but Bane put that thought aside as he now worrys more about his arm. Putting down the potion he takes hold of the arriow before readying to brace himself. Normaly he would break the tail end of the arriow and push the arriow head forword though the arm but with the healing potion here he would able to just pull it out. However it would still hurt like the devil himself. After taking a few moment he quickly pull the arriow out of his arm but not before giving out a loud yell. Quickly he uncork the bottle and drink what was in it.

Lyn seemed to tense and a look of fear spread across her face when Flavie came to give her the potions. It would appear that Lyn did not like being touched or grabbed like this, even if it was completely normal for most people. It was scaring her quite a bit, moreso then the monsters. She did try to swallow the potions though, and choked out a raspy "Thank you" to the woman, she did appreciate the help she just had a fear of people.

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Healing and mana potions both work by accelerating the natural recovery processes of the body and mind, respectively. A healing potion quaffed has the effect of half an hour of bed rest each second, providing up to a full night's rest over the course of sixteen seconds (for minor potions like these - more potent ones exist in other places). Likewise, a mana potion restore clarity of thought as if from 4 hours of sleep, at the same rate. The amount of damage done to both Lyn and Bane would take many nights of rest to restore, but these potions should at least close up open wounds and make bruises less tender. Bane would be able to swing a weapon again without pain, though another hit to the arm would still be excruciating. Lyn would be able to walk again after the potion has run its full course, and the majority of her aches would be gone.

Flavie furrowed her brow at Lyn's reaction, but held onto her until she was sure the potion was starting to work. She then took her hands away and stood up. "Ye can rest in my camp, the both of ye, lest ye wish to be set upon by more fiends today. The corrupted rogues out there are not to be trifled with", she said, swivelling her head between the two warriors while at the same time glancing around for signs of movement in the distance. She motioned with one arm in the direction of her camp, and with the other arm offered Lyn her sai back. Naked as she was, she preferred to get back to her camp quickly, so that she could wash up and put on some clothes, not to mention the comfort of having a good number of spiked barricades between her and any more demons who might wander this way.

Bane gave the red head a nod in reply, while she was helping Lyn up and helping her to the camp Bane went around and collect not only his weapons but also those of the demons as well. He also took the time to at his surroundings as he gather the weapons just to make sure no other demons or anything else for that matter come up to surprise him. Once he and the women got back to the camp safely it would be then he turn to the red head "I take it your name is Flavie, you fit the description of how I was to check on. My name his Bane and I came from the rogue encampment, commander Kashya gave me directions to get here and i figure i check how things are going here before heading to the den of evil. Its good I've came here first. Are there not anyone else that was with you or were they taken by other demons like you?" he asked. He wanted to know what happen as well but he kept himself from asking that, so much have happen already and the woman was just raped by four demons as well. However he hope that the raven haired woman will be alright, she seem to have been in the same state as Flavie when they first found her. though Flavie seem to be just fine other then her covered with demon cum, he guessed it was some sort of odd magic the woman used though in ether case it came in handy.

Lyn heard the offer to stay at the campsite, and she really did not want to stay. There would be two other people there with her, and that was two too many. The monsters in the world were much less scary then the humans to Lyn. With monsters, you know what they want, they want to kill you so it is simple and easy to deal with them. Humans... Humans were much crueler and did far worse, they lie, they hurt others for amusement, they are a purely selfish race and you never know what terrible things they are planning to do. Despite being human herself, Lyn would rather be in a field of monsters that were trying to kill her then be in a campsite with other humans, she'd feel safer in that field of monsters. But, she also knew that she didn't have much choice in the matter. She was in hostile territory, she knew she was in no shape to survive on her own right now, and these humans were not attacking her for now like she knew the monsters would. So, she sighed lightly and relented to going to the campsite. She survived her short stay with the rogues and that was utterly terrifying, so she hoped she could make it through this stay too.

She weakly reached up to take her sai back and returned it to her belt. Then she shakily got to her feet, walking wasn't easy but she could do it now that she had recovered a little and felt a little rested. She would bow a little and say one more quiet "Thank you." before shakily walking to the camp and trying to find a secluded place in the campsite to stay. It didn't need to be far way, just far enough for her to feel safe. Even if it was an uncomfortable spot, it didn't matter as long as she felt like she could flee or fight back before they could reach her. Once there, she would begin trying to heal herself. It would take at least one full day, if not a couple days for her to recover completely since she needed to balance healing and resting to restore the energy spent on healing. She would start with her shoulder, since her shoulder blade had been cracked rather badly when she was struck by that club. So she wanted to get to work on that ASAP.

« Last Edit: November 02, 2013, 04:53:53 am by Viante »

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The clouds had grown slowly darker during the battle, and finally began to release a spattering of raindrops upon the three humans as they stepped around the barricades on their return to Flavie's camp. When Flavie sees Lyn looking for a far removed spot, she stops her and says, "You should rest in ma tent, lass, the rain'll worsen yer condition", gesturing to the small tent that flaps in the wind, a hanging animal skin functioning as a door. She doesn't insist if Lyn still wants to distance herself, but she does give the girl an odd look for her mannerisms.

Picking up a muddy rag that was draping over the short wall that lined the campsite, Flavie began wiping the cum off of her body, using the rain to rinse herself. While she doesn't seem too overly bothered being so naked in front a man, she also keeps a bit of distance from him, as he is yet a stranger to her. "I am Flavie", she answered to confirm his assumption, "There's no one but m'self to guard this pass. I owe ye m'life, stranger. Take anythin' ye need. Food, water, weapons....". She continued wiping herself down as she motioned to a half eaten bit of skewered quill rat tail next to the embers of her campfire, and next to it an apple wrapped in cloth. There was a skin of water hanging from one of the perimeter spikes. Hatchets, mallets, daggers, and extra arrows were arrayed near the tent, along with regular tools, including a small spade and some fire pokers.

"There's a waypoint not far from here", Flavie continued, addressing Bane as she stooped towards her tent to fetch some spare clothing, "I cannae look fer it without leavin' me camp, but if ye head out there, ye'd do well to find it. Kashya needs ta know wha' happened, an' this one's needin' Akara's touch". She gestured to Lyn as she spoke, referring to the dangers of the girl travelling through the Blood Moor to get any help from the Sisters.

Bane nodded in agreement that the woman needed help or else her condition may worsened, though that might be a problem if the woman doens't want anyone touching her. He seen the way she was acting with Flavie. "I can take her back and tell Kashya what happen as well, really you shouldn't be alone like this or else you might just wind up being raped by another group of demons. " he said to her. If he's heading back to the camp he wouldn't have much time to eat or anything if the dark haired woman needed help right away. "I could leave now with her so this she could get the help she needs right away, I'll see if can get another peron or two to come over here to help. If no one is willing or able right away I'll come myself and stay with ya long as I can."

Lyn froze for a moment when she felt herself get wet and looked up at the clouds, noticing that it was beginning to rain. She cringed a little and let out a quiet, almost inaudible whimper as she thought 'Of course... It rains when I am incapeable of building shelter... Why?. She glanced at Flavie when she heard the suggestion to share the tent and shook her head. Sure, the rain may worsen her condition by making her sick. But the people in the tent could harm her and do far worse. If she had to choose.... Sitting out in the rain was much safer, in her mind. With a fear of people so deeply rooted into her mind, her thoughts involving people were often very irrational. "N-No, I'm alright..." She said very quietly before taking shelter beside a nearby barricade. She just sat down and leaned against it, it didn't really cover her much but it at least covered a little of the rain.

Trying not to eaves drop, she did her best not to listen to the conversation the other two were having. She did hear that this woman was infact Flavie, as she had assumed. And she was going to say that Flavie shouldn't be here alone, but the other man got to it first. Lyn knew that nobody should travel these lands alone, even just one other person makes a huge difference. But, then again, she was a hypocrite since she traveled alone herself while instructing others not to do so. For now she just remained quiet, after a moment she stopped healing her shoulder and rested. Not wanting to completely drain her energy on healing. She would get back to working on her shoulder later though.

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Flavie narrowed her eyes and gritted her teeth at Bane's suggestions that she would be raped again. She quickly threw on a mud-brown tunic, and a cloak of the same colour to cover herself up. Alas, she had no leggings or spare boots, and so it was bare skin from mid thigh downward to her bare feet now mingling with mud. "An' what if ye get attacked whilst carryin' the lass?", she asked Bane as she pulled the cloak tight and picked up a spare bow. She gave a glance at the plains, continuing, "In groups o' three or four, the lost rogues wander at speed. Ye'd best be fleet o' foot, or get surrounded".

"My advice be to move quick an' open the Waypoint", she said as she got an arrow ready in her bow, "I'll be fine behind these spikes, as I have fer weeks. Twas my folly in steppin' beyond 'em". She gritted her teeth again at the thought of the costly mistake that led to her ignoble fate, and stared out at the plains, the horizon now concealed behind dark rainy skies.

He didn't like the idea of leaving the women alone in the state they'er in, however Flavie had a point as well. If he were to take Lyn with him it would slow him down, he wouldn't able to fight and keep her from geting hit or droping for that matter. On top of that his arm wasn't fully healed yet so he might not last too long in a fight if more then two opponents and if Flavie is right there are more things out there then he knew about. For now he had to trust Flavie sense she knew way around this area then he does "Alright, I'll be back fast as I can. How far do I need to run to get to the waypoint?" he asked her, once he knew he would start running towards the waypoint.

"It's not far... four hundred yards, maybe", Flavie said, "Swing a wee bit to the right when ye pass the goats. But watch yer back..." Not watching her back was what got Flavie in trouble. "If ye get inna trouble, lead 'em back 'ere, I'll cover ye", she added, finally looking him in the eye again as she glanced at him.

The rain was starting to build up pools of bloody water around the two demon corpses, and it was also making soft mud out of the dirt around Flavie's barricades. While the stakes and fence posts were dug in deep enough to stay put, the muddy ground would bode ill for any creature, friend or foe, that might try to reach her camp in a hurry. Likewise could be said of trying to manoeuvre quickly on the wet grass of the plains without cleats. It would come down to Bane's barbarian senses to guide him to victory.

-- East Path --

The dirt path, wide enough for a single wagon, extended out of Flavie's camp and into the haze of falling rain on the western horizon. On Flavie's advice, Bane's course should veer just north of the path, and soon he came across the sight of four bodies standing tall, some 100 yards away, silhouetted in the rain. They appeared to be human, and female, by their long hair. They carried weapons. one held a pitchfork horizontally across her body. Another had a hatchet in hand, dangling at her side. Another one, shorter than the others, rested both hands upon a walking stick. The fourth was behind the other three and so harder to see, but also appeared to be armed. They just stood there in the distance, nearly motionless, as the wind blew their hair about their shoulders.

-- Flavie's Camp --

Once Bane had gone, Flavie looked over her shoulder at Lyn and frowned. "If it was him ye feared, lass, he's gone nou", she called to the girl.

Bane was running or moved as fast as he could without the mud making him slip and fall, he also drew his claymore out while he made his way to the way point. As he gotten closer to where he needs to be he seen four figures ahead of him. All four seem to just be standing there as if the rain didn't effect them. Bane didn't like the feeling he was getting form the site of them but he needs to get closer to know for sure if they are freind or foe. Still Bane gets ready for another fight if he have to though he would try to go though them in order to get to the way point.

Venturing closer, Bane could see that the women were all naked, and standing in a wide circle, turned inwards to face each other. They were looking down upon the ground between them, when the one on the far side, a rather heavily built one with braided blonde hair, glanced up and made eye contact with Bane. Her eyes glowed red with demonic corruption, and held up a length of rope, to the end of which was fastened a heavy black iron hook. As she stared at Bane, she let out an ear-piercing shriek. The other three women slowly turned around. The oldest looking one, red of hair, carried a pitchfork. A lanky brunette held the hatchet, her arms so thin it was a wonder she could even lift the weapon. The short one with the walking stick was a cute freckled blonde, and on closer look her walking stick had a long rusty spike hammered through the top of it.

They joined in their comrade's horrible screeching, and began advancing upon Bane, still distant, and spreading out as they walked slowly.

Lyn kept to herself as the others talked. Resting for a moment before placing her hand on her shoulder and again making her hand glow green for a moment as she healed her broken shoulder just a little more. Exerting the little energy she had recovered from resting for a moment. It would take quite a while to actually heal her broken shoulder at this rate, but she was pushing herself to get it done as soon as possible. Her gaze shot up to Flavie when she heard the woman speak to her. "W-What? N-No I am not afraid of anything." She stammered quickly. Trying to deny the fact that she was afraid of the two of them.

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'Blast it where is the waypoint?' he asked himself in his mind though hearing the ear piercing shrieks from all four he could tell there not human or they were once human he believe. In either case it was four against one and his arm wasn't fully healed ether. It was hard for him to decide to ether go back to the camp and lore them back at the camp or just run though them and hope he finds the way point. However he did just relize something, he wasn't sure how to activate the waypoint. He forgot to ask Flavie how he could use it but if she believe he could get to it then it must just be walking on it or something if she didn't thing there was anything else to tell. 'Fuck it, we all got to die some time!' Bane thought to himself as he ran forward. He readys himself to try to block, parry or counter any up coming attacks that he might come across while he trys to go though all four of them.

Flavie cocked an eyebrow as she looked back at Lyn again. "Then don't be daft, and get in the tent", she retorted with a motion of her forehead towards said tent. With the words still on her tongue, the distant shrieking of corrupted rogues could be heard upon the wind, amid a flash of lightning in the sky. Flavie snapped her head back towards the plains and got her bow ready. "Christ...", she muttered.

-- East Path --

Bane's advance, stirred the four rogues to charge at him, and for a split second, everything was brightly illuminated by a flash of lightning to the west. The two sides closed the distance within a few seconds, and a crash of thunder announced their meeting. The one with the rope and hook attacked first, swinging the hook twice over her head, and then hurling it towards Bane's head. The hook travelled slowly enough that he could duck to the side to avoid it, at which point he came into range of the redhead with the pitchfork. Her thrust lacked much power, and was easy for Bane to redirect with a swipe of his sword. From his right, the skinny one with the hatchet stepped in and took a swing at him, but she had to reach forward to do so, as stepping closer would put her in the path of his sword. The fourth one, the short blonde, had been on Bane's left, and circled around to get behind him. The four were trying to surround him, and the redhead with the pitchfork did her best to press the haft of her weapon with both hands against his blade to slow down his movement.

Bane took a moment to study what weapons they had at hand, maybe charging straight at them wasn't the smartest of ideas, but he is in a hurry and if he didn't get to the way point soon who knows what other things he would face. First thing first is to get though these four. He could tell right away they were trying surround him which would be normal for a four on one fight but also can be their down full as well. They didn't seem to be that strong alone and it might be why these women stayed together as a group, if that's the case he might able to get though this without getting hit himself, he hopes aways. Once Bane got close enough thats when the attacks happen. First he duck under the hook just enough for it pass over his head, at the same time Bane use his sword to redirect the pitchfork towards his right. If any luck it would stop the attacker with the hatchet or be thrusted with the pitchfork. However in doing this he knew he might be open for an attack from the blood that was trying to get behind him from his left side.

At that moment swings his sword and himself around like a top, in doing this he hope to keep the blond away from him a bit longer and if any luck so would the others. After the full circle he swing his sword side to side as he walked backwords with the four of them in frount of him. He didn't see anything that look like a way point, he hoped he didn't miss it or he might have to waist more time killing these dark women.

The way the girls were arranged, Bane had no trouble making his manoeuvre. His strength far exceeded that of the woman pushing with her pitchfork, so she was forced to stumble backwards when he swung his sword. The larger blonde had retrieved her hook and was getting ready to try to choke Bane with the rope, when she was forced to duck under the swinging blade. The shorter blonde took a swing with her spiked club at Bane's legs, but he had already moved too far away from her. The one with the hatchet gave chase after the sword tip passed her, but she was caught in the arm by his backswing, leaving her with a shallow cut on her left tricep.

As Bane backed off further keeping the rogues at a safe distance, the tall blonde swung her rope around again and let the hook fly towards the barbarian's chest. She hoped to either strike him down with it, or get the hook upon his sword to disarm him. The two smaller and faster women (the hatchet wielding waif, and the blonde with the club), circled around to either side of Bane, trying to surround him again while keeping their distance this time.

A quick glance behind Bane revealed movement amid the grass, at the crest of a small hill less than 50 feet behind him. It looked like there was someone on the ground there, wriggling. Getting a bit closer, he could see it was a young woman, naked and dirty like the others, but she was tied down in a spread eagle pose, and beneath her was a wide stone slab... wide enough to be the base of a Waypoint.

Lyn shook her head a little "N-No thank you, I am perfectly fine and much more comfortable out here." She said quietly and quickly. Sure, outside in the rain was far from comfortable, but to Lyn it was the better of the two choices since in the tent was unsafe and thus less comfortable in her mind. Her head perked up when she heard the shrieking in the distance and she immediately went to stand as if she was going to rush out to help. She knew the barbarian must have run into something, and despite fearing people, her submissive nature made helping others almost an instinct. But, when she tried to stand she moved her arm and cringed from the pain in her shoulder, nevermind the pain everywhere else. She glanced at her shoulder and frowned a little, knowing very well she could not wield her bow until that healed, and without her bow she couldn't fight. She knew she was far too fragile to fight up close, and she had no offensive magic. So, she sat back down and resigned herself to the fact that she could not help right now.

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Bane quicken his pace and trying to keep them from sirrounding him again, he swing his around in front him as he backs up in hopes to keep them at bay at lest a little longer. His head turned back and notice as he still heads for what he believes is the way point is another woman naked on top of it. However this one was tied down on the ground in a spread pose. He wasn't sure what the rogues were doing but he dout they would bind one of their own or else they would have one more on him would they not? Just as he looked back he notice the hook coming at him. He stop swinging his sword and bring one hand up just in time to catch the hook by the ring that the rope was tired to. The blade of the hook only got though a little bit but hardly enough that it could do any real damage other then a deep cut into his skin. If he didn't catch it when he did then he would have been impaled by the hook.

As a quick reflexe when he coat the hook threw it at one of the rogues, which was the one with the club in her hands. After that he rightaway turn around and do an all out run for the waypoint. He would once he got there, and if he have the time, cut a rope that tied one of her her arms and take hold of her arm while trying to cut the other ropes. Be knew he only had to stand on the waypoint for a moment but he wasn't sure if the woman that was on top of it would come with him if tied. He only hopes she wasn't a corrupted as well or else they more likely got him traped.

(The hook is blunt, like the kind you would find on the back of a tow truck)

The rogues kept their distance as Bane swung his sword, not wanting to get caught by it. The hook was then easily caught, and swiftly thrown at the shorter blonde. This move she did not expect, and the heavy piece of iron struck her in the jaw as she turned her head in surprise. The hit knocked her off her feet.

The one with the hatchet ducked and lunged at Bane as he turned and ran for the waypoint, but she could only nick the back of his leg, a cut so small he did not even feel it. As she recovered her balance, the two older women gave chase in full.

Bane found that the woman tied up to the Waypoint was wide eyed with fear, and she struggled vigorously against the ropes that held her down. He managed to cut one rope, but before he could start on the second, the closest two corrupted rogues descended upon Bane's position. The redhead charged forward with her pitchfork, aiming to skewer Bane through the belly if he did not defend himself immediately. The one with the rope and hook followed, this time grabbing the rope in both hands and rushing towards him with intention to strangle him. The other two rogues were running to catch up.

The Waypoint began to slowly activate, as four stone basins at the corners of the slab started to ignite with blue flames. It was to these four torches that the bound woman's limbs had been tied. It would take at least 5 seconds for the Waypoint to start working, but Bane had to act immediately to fight off his attackers.

-- Flavie's Camp --

Flavie did not immediately answer Lyn, as she was now preoccupied with the screeching she had heard in the distance. Lightning was followed after several seconds by a crack of thunder, the overture of a strong storm blowing across the plains. The red haired rogue kept watching the west, trying to see amidst the darkening horizon while raindrops splashed off of her face and soaked her clothes. On top of this, billows of fog began rolling across the Blood Moor in the east, coming in off the water. The road back to the Rogue Encampment soon disappeared from view, except for some fifty metres of grass and mud that was visible beyond the camp's low fence.

Glancing back quickly, Flavie advised, "Watch me back in the fog, lass. The undead come ashore sometimes amidst. Yer best bet's a hatchet to the head". She pointed to where she kept the tools for her camp. It was probably easy for a tall girl like Flavie to kill a zombie in one precise blow. The shorter Lyn might have a bit of a reach disadvantage.

Bane curse outloud as he seen two of the rogues already apon him and if he didn't defend himself here he would more likely miss his chance to use the way point. Quickly he drew one of his throwing daggers and drop it next to the tied woman's head in hopes she get the idea to use it to cut the other ropes. Bane waited until the redhead came deadly close to him with her pitchfork and when she came about a foot away from him he swing his claymore up to deflect the pitchfork which would froce the weapon to be push upword leaving the read head open for an attack and takes that opening as well. Right after he deflect he twist wrist some, sense he held the sword with both hands, step forward and bring his sword down to slach at her across her showder and chest area. Bane knew by doing this it would leave open to the woman with the rope to attack him though he didn't see her much of a threat as of yet but she would be next to deal with. That is if the other two rogues haven't caught up yet.

Lyn too was worried about the screeches, if she wasn't incapacitated at the moment she would have gone to find out what caused them. She became a little uneasy when she saw the fog rolling in and began looking for some high ground, like a tree or something she could climb. She did not like the lack of vision she had in the fog, it made it hard to keep enemies at long range without losing sight of them. She let out a squeak of surprise when she heard Flavie's words though. "W-What? Ma'am... I cannot fight. I am completely reliant on my mobility and agility, my magic, and my bow in combat. Right now I can't use any of those three. I don't have the energy for much magic, I can't use my bow with my broken shoulder, and I am too exhausted and injured to be as agile as I need to be. I knew I couldn't fight anymore when my shoulder broke, so I gave you all my energy and took on your wounds. The potion helped, but I'm still exhausted and hurt. The little energy the potion gave me went to trying to speed up the healing in my shoulder." She said quietly.

She shakily got back onto her feet regardless and went to try and get a hatchet. "If we're attacked by undead... Your best bet is to stay near me, I can't move much. But I may be able to muster an illusion or two, and being undead maybe we can hope they are dumb enough to fall for the same illusion more then once."

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"Aye, yer in tough shape...", Flavie commiserated, "...but ye got two choices if they come at ye". She then listened to the suggestion of a third choice that was to hide with illusion magic. The rogue looked around, and back west towards the coming storm. "Jus' keep a watch east fer me...", she told Lyn, "I'll do wha' I can. I owe ye tha'"

-- East Path --

As predicted, the red haired attacker's pitchfork was forced up, and she was cut deeply through the body by Bane's counterattack before she could move to avoid it. The woman crumpled to the ground dead, spraying blood all over the arm and chest of the blonde next to her. Said blond threw her weight into Bane and grabbed his wrist to try to stop him from swinging his sword. She gripped tightly with both hands, dropping her rope, and sunk her teeth into his shoulder, biting like a wild animal. The other two corrupted rogues came closer, and it became clear that their strategy now was for the largest one to impede Bane's movement so that the two smaller could close in and hack him to pieces. But Bane still had the advantage that he was twice as strong as the one holding him, and would not necessarily be held for long.

The throwing knife that Bane had dropped clanged and skittered upon the stone slab next to the bound girl's head. She fumbled at first, trying to pick it up. With all the people stepping around her, fighting each other, she was afraid to turn her attention away from them, fearful that she might get stepped on while she wasn't looking. Finally, she grasped the knife, cutting her hand accidentally in the process as she grabbed the wrong end. Wincing, and finding the handle, she held it up defensively in her one free hand, but again she was too afraid to turn away from the battle to try to free herself. Her expression seemed to be consumed with irrational panic, verging on madness, like a caged animal.

The blue flames in the corners of the Waypoint grew to full height, signalling that it was now active.

Bane gave a small yell of pain as the rogue start biting on his shoulder, the barbarian brings up his foodjust between the dark rogue and himself and slam his foot against her front, more between her breast and stomach, just enough to get her off him and a way just enough for him to swing his sword to slash at her. Once he got away from the dark rogue he quickly take hold of a the woman that's tied to the way point by her free arm and hopes that this thing will take them both away from this area.

As Bane struggled with the heavyset rogue, the redhead he killed earlier landed on the ground, and was at once consumed by a brilliant blue flame in the shape of her body, that rose up from her and then faded into nothing, as though the demonic presence that had corrupted her was finally released, leaving behind only a lifeless corpse. (I forgot to mention this effect in my last post )

It was an awkward motion to try to kick away the blonde woman while she was close enough to grab his wrist. Bane succeeded by throwing his weight into her, and got in a parting slash that drew blood but did not seem fatal. As the rogue stumbled back, bleeding, Bane was left off balance and stumbled backwards as well, where he nearly tripped over the bound woman he was trying to save. The two smaller corrupted rogues came in fast, one from each side, bringing their weapons down upon Bane as he crouched to take hold of the tied up woman.

Bane needed only to think about the rogue encampment, and there was a sudden flash of light around him. The weapons of the other two corrupted rogues passed through thin air and struck the stone slab below, and Bane found himself suddenly in new surroundings; a very disorienting feeling for those not used to this method of travel.

Lyn nodded and turned to watch the east direction, while keeping the north and south directions somewhat in her peripheral vision just incase. She focused and made an illusionary clone of herself, this clone was unlike the others though. It had purple hair making it easy to tell which was the clone and which was the real Lyn. "The purple haired me is fake. Do not try to save it." Lyn answered quietly. She assumed the undead would not have the intelligence needed to figure out that the illusion wasn't real. Unless they were not zombies and were the more powerful ones who actually had brains. "Be safe, do not take unnecessary risks." She said softly. "I will watch the east."

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Several minutes passed without any signs of activity in either direction. The storm drew nearer, with winds picking up so that the rain blew in on a diagonal, causing Flavie to crouch by the barricade to expose less of herself to the stinging torrents. Lightning and thunder crashed in the western sky more often, drawing nearer. The stronger winds pushed the fog bank out away from the camp, giving them at the best point almost 50 metres of visibility.

Then the winds died down some as the storm veered in a northerly direction, and the fog returned until it was so oppressive that even Flavie's tent fifteen feet away was barely visible, but as a dark shape in the mist. The rumblings of thunder became more distant, and an eerie quiet set in over the background drone of raindrops hitting the water to the south. The sounds of squawking Fallen could occasionally be heard far away to the northeast, confirming that it was for the best Lyn did not try to return to the rogue encampment by that route.

"A what?" Lyn asked curiously, no knowing what a bonny was. The best she could get from that was a 'bunny trick' which made no sense to her. She remained tense and watched her surroundings closely. When the fog closed in too much to see, Lyn shrunk back a little but stood her ground and kept her eyes scanning as much as she could. Lyn briefly glanced at the northeast when she heard the sounds of the fallen, but didn't pay much mind to it. She didn't plan to go back to the camp anyways. This stop to assist Flavie was just a brief stop on her journey.

Lyn was still on edge and didn't really want to make any noise in the fog, but when Flavie spoke to her she quietly answered "My name is Lyn. I am assuming you are Flavie? The rogues mentioned someone by that name camping out here. Lucky I happened to pass by when I did."

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"Aye", Flavie answered with a sigh, "This camp's our first line o' defence. I buggered up, and now there's no tellin' 'ow many demons got through".

Outside the camp, the sounds continued: gusts of wind wafting over the water to the south, squawks to the east, thunder to the north, and heavy raindrops hitting the wooden barricades to the west. One such gust of wind parted the fog to the south very briefly, just long enough for Lyn to notice a semicircular shape on the water some sixty feet distant, like something was partially submerged out there, about the size of a person's head. The fog quickly returned to make visibility over the water impossible once more.

"Is there any reason why you do this alone? I mean, if you even had one other person here on guard with you that never would have happened." Lyn said softly. "No human is perfect, we all make mistakes. Making a mistake in combat will get you killed if you don't have someone to watch your back. And it inevitably will happen to everyone eventually. So traveling with even just one ally dramatically increases chances of survival." She said softly.

She tensed when her sharp eyes caught something in the water. "Don't let your guard down. There's something in the water that wasn't there before. I couldn't really tell what it was though, but I know for sure it wasn't there before." She added quietly.

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"Zombies?", Flavie asked, turning her attention southward and raising her bow. Hopefully, this wouldn't turn into the opening scene from Master and Commander. Just in case, ominous drums began playing on the movie score for this RP, followed soon by strings, brass. and flutes. A profound silence followed, broken only by the approaching footsteps of the third brigade.

"I don't know." Lyn answered quietly. "I can't see it now that the fog is in the way. But it was there." She kept watching her side, but she made sure not to just look straight, she kept sweeping her view to watch her left and right sides too, and frequently kept glancing back at Flavie to make sure the other woman was alright and to watch her back. Staying on guard and listening for any sounds of approaching foes.

« Last Edit: December 03, 2013, 07:51:56 pm by Viante »

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(was partly drawing this out to sync with Bane's thread, and the battle in the blood moor, hence the sudden fog)

There is much silence and waiting. Gusts of wind blow in from the west, making the tent flap about, and spraying mist in the faces of the two women while rain drops fall straight downward on their heads. But that doesn't mean their eyes will soon be turning red~. Unless they take a bite, from the very ugly sight~ now shambling neeear~ It is missing an ear. A nose as well. Splashes in the water betray it, plus smell, as it hoists itself up out of the muck, what the fuck.

What was at first a bald veiny forehead shrouded in fog became a full face, chewed up and badly degraded by the elements. Empty eye sockets crowned a gaping nasal cavity and a handful of teeth inset into the upper jaw. The lower jaw hung only by its right hinge, with the left cheek being completely devoid of flesh. Its near-skeletal hands landed on the bank of the water with a wet splat, and it pushed itself up out of the water, shoulders appearing, then a chest full of holes occupied by some crustacean. It crawled forward with its hands to make room for its legs to take solid ground. And there were splashes of water behind it, suggesting it was not alone.

Lyn flinched and shook her head when the water splashed into her face but quickly wiped it away and returned to watching her direction. it wasn't long before she heard the splashes of water and could see the faint outline of something coming out of the water. She tensed and took a deep breath, gripping her axe tighter. "Flare, something it coming out of the water. Sounds like multiple somethings. I'll check if it's friendly." She said before letting her illusion self run over towards the creatures.

"Halt!" The illusion would shout at them. "State who you are and do not move." The illusion was within striking range of them, but it was just an illusion so Lyn didn't worry about it getting hit or grabbed.

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The creature's jaw was half gone, it could not answer even if it possessed the intelligence to do so. With a quick lunge, both of its hands came down upon the illusion and swiped through the space it occupied. Its upper teeth followed, as if to bite Lyn's double, and then the rest of its mass shambled through the image as it recovered its balance.

Two shadows moved in the fog behind it, in keeping with the shape and mannerisms of the first zombie. They slowly grew in height as they stood up after crawling onto shore.

Lyn nodded to herself as she saw that whatever the figure was had attacked her illusion. "It is not friendly. and attacking my illusion in a way a zombie would. There's more behind it too, what do we do?" She questioned. Normally she would flee in such a situation but she knew they didn't have that option here, they were supposed to be defending the pass. She moved her illusion closer to herself and took a ready stance, prepared to attack if they got too close.

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The zombie shambled across the camp, chasing Lyn's illusion, and as it neared the central fire pit, Flavie stepped forward and swung a hatchet into the creature's left arm, severing much of the limb so that it dangled by a few threads of muscle tissue. She recoiled backwards to evade an anticipated swing of the zombie's right arm, and then when the creature lunged forward at her, she stepped aside to her left and brought her hatchet down upon its temple.

The zombie slumped over onto the ground with a low groan, and the two that were behind it shambled closer to join the engagement. Each of them was missing a good portion of their faces, all of their hair, and wore torn scraps of fabric as clothing. The one on the left had a hook in place of its right hand, fused into the connective tissue of its wrist, and the one on the right had a noose fitted tightly around its bony neck, the end of the rope frayed away just above the knot, so that it hung down to mid-chest.

The fog had by now cleared a great deal, and Vhalie found that the camp site was littered with rotten corpses. There were half a dozen that she could spot immediately, and possibly others strewn among the shrubbery in the north, and behind the short wooden barricade on the other side of the camp. A clammy dampness hung in the air, making everything shimmer with little drops of moisture. The fire pit had been out for some time, and there was a bloody hatchet buried in a tree stump nearby. The ground was soft mud, causing Vhalie's feet to sink a few centimetres with every step. Many footprints criss-crossed the camp, some of them squirming with clusters of maggots.

From the south end of the camp, there was a loud splash and a grunt. Flavie had tossed one of the fetid corpses into the water to be taken away by the tide, and turned back to the centre of the camp to grab another. When she saw Vhalie, she stopped and looked back at her, catching her breath for a moment. The rogue was a mess, barefoot and wearing just a tattered cloak with a number of rips in it that revealed bruised pale skin underneath. Mud and dark blood was smeared all over her cheeks and arms and legs, and her bare feet were almost black from being caked with dark mud. There were a few scratches on her upper arm, and her right cheek was swelling up a bit, but otherwise she seemed to have come out of the battle in good shape.

"Did the barbarian send ye?", Flavie asked, stretching her shoulders back with a deep breath.

Cold Plains really deserved their name – Vhalie was used to hot climate of Kehjistan and cool air was piercing her like millions of tiny needles. And ubiquitous dampness only worsened things, drenching her in no time. The Assassin making her steps cautiously, trying not to get dirty more than it was necessary. She was lucky being rather slight of build – larger person would surely have more difficulties with walking in the mud.

It was clear that a battle had place there not so long ago. Who had slain all that monsters? There were too many bodies for thinking that only one woman did that – until Flavie was ten feet high had four arms and breathed fire. However, after hearing gossips in the camp, Vhalie wouldn’t be very surprised if it occurred to be true.

The Assassin heard splashing sounds and went in that direction; having one of her knife ready in the case she had to use them. Though, it was only very dirty Rogue, looking like she had hard times recently. ‘What barbarian?’ Vhalie raised her black eyebrows. ‘No, actually it was Charsi who sent me. Flavie, right?’ She looked around at a battlefield in the camp. ‘Need some help?’

Flavie nodded and pointed to one of the corpses on the ground. "That one next", she answered, moving towards it to lift it by the shoulders, expecting Vhalie to take its legs. "A big lad was here, I sent him to find the Waypoint", she explained glumly, "I guess he dinnae make it..."

"If ye end oop back in camp, let them know I need new boots ou' 'ere, and some new leathers, too", she noted as they worked to clear the bodies out of the camp.

Vhalie hid her blade and lifted monster’s legs as she was asked. Now she surely would get dirty, but she didn’t expected Flavie to be very talkative until they finish. She wouldn’t be if she was on her place.‘I haven’t seen any barbarian’ she explained. ‘If he was indeed so big I should have noticed him in the camp. But I heard your Sisters speaking that the waypoint is active now.’ She shrugged as she came from the side of Blood Moor, not by teleportation. ‘It looks like you have a serious battle here’ she said, having a presence of numerous corpses in camp on mind.

"Zombies", Flavie replied as she heaved the next corpse off the ground and brought it over to the water to toss it in, "They're no' a huge threat, but they take oop a lo' o' space".

She tossed the corpse into the water with a loud splash, and wiped some mud from her face. "And they fookin' stink", she remarked.

When the camp was cleared of rotting meat, Flavie dropped into a cross-legged sitting position just outside of her tent. "Be careful ou' there, lass", she warned between breaths, "The corrupted rogues are no' ta be trifled with. The man came before ye learned tha' the hard way".

Out to the west, strong northerly winds could be heard tearing across the plains, howling and pushing the grass and shrubs southward, and making ripples across the water. The sun was still not visible, due to the immense cloud cover, which created an oppressive darkness that gave the impression that entering the Cold Plains was a bit like trying to simply walk into Mor'dor. As if to emphasize that point, the blood-curdling shrieks of corrupted rogues could be heard far in the distance, drawing comparison to the screeching Naz'gul, as best represented by Peter Jackson's special effects team.

Vhalie wasn’t ready to go further to Cold Plains yet. There were still questions that she wanted to ask and that where the reason of her walking through the Flavie’s camp, not directly by the waypoint. She hoped that the Rogue would know something useful.

‘Flavie, there is something I want to ask you, if you don’t mind.’ She squatted before the woman, to be on one level with her. ‘Charsi sent me to find your Order’s secret hideout, where supplies were hidden. She needed them to make better products in her smithy. Do you have any idea where I should start searching?’

A look of concern flashed in Flavie's eyes when the old hideout was mentioned. She nodded slowly, taking another deep breath. "Aye, I know where i' is", she answered quietly, and then rose to her feet. She walked over to the barricade and picked up a bow she had left there while she was clearing the camp, along with a quiver of arrows that she slung over her back. "The demons likely made a doongeon ou' of it by now. Ye'll no' be goin' there alone as ye are", she warned direly, "No' if ye want to come back alive", and she shook her head emphatically, causing her blood red ponytail to sway between her muddy shoulders. A strong breeze picked up and blew loose wisps of hair about her face while she stared off at the plains.

‘It couldn’t be easy, could it?’ replied Vhalie and stood by Flavie’s side while she was fixing her eyes at the horizon. She could ask her for going for her, but she doubted that the Rogue would leave her post voluntary. Demons that lived there had to be terrifying and supplies left by the Order were surely tasty morsels for them. ‘I prefer to avoid direct battle – I know that I have no chances with overwhelming forces. However, tell me, where I can find the hideout. I will go there and at least assess their number. I know how to stealth unnoticed to the enemy.’

Flavie raised her right arm and pointed into the distance, down the road that stretched out into the plains and toward the Stony Field. "It's by the crossroads", she answered, "Go there an' look left, it's the only thing stickin' up ou' o' the ground that's no' a house" With the plains being flat by definition, the Cave wasn't really much of a hideout at all. The rogues only used it because it was the one of the few places in the area where the goods they stored wouldn't get rained on constantly.

Vhalie looked at the direction pointed by Flavie. She had to believe her, as clouds that covered the sun made impossible to spot any details from this distance. She prepared on long and harsh way before she would close to the Cave the Rogue was speaking about.

‘Thank you’ she said and once again glanced at the expanses of Cold Plains spreading before her. She tried if her blades were in right places and covered herself tighter against the cool wind. ‘I hope that we will see each other again’ the Assassin said on farewell and took the road.

Vhalie had to step carefully around wooden stakes and pits dug into the narrow path immediately outside Flavie's camp. Recent rain had made the path very muddy and slippery, making it all the more treacherous for someone trying to assault the camp at speed. Indeed, next to one of the stakes were the bodies of two goat demons of the Moon Clan, freshly slain with wounds in the chest and face and neck. Their dark foul blood mixed in with the mud and gave off an odour of brimstone that mingled with the smell of dead meat.

Further west, the shrubs on Vhalie's right side gave way dramatically to wide open plain. She could see quite far in all directions. A couple hundred metres to the south, there was a short stone house with an attached stone wall that protected a garden from the high winds. Said winds blasted Vhalie from a north-westerly direction, penetrating all but the thickest of cloth with a chill that cut right to the bone. While Flavie's camp had been protected from the wind by a barrier of trees and shrubs, out here in the open Vhalie was fully exposed to its merciless icy fingers. Further west, the assassin could see how the path she was on continued for half a kilometre before branching off west and south, and she could make out a little hill there that might be what Flavie was talking about. To the north, the ground rose slightly in elevation, and at its apex, two or three hundred metres away, she could see the dim blue flames of the Waypoint. However, she could also see the silhouetted forms of three people standing around the Waypoint, eerily still. Likewise, in the distance to the west and south, she could see the movement of monsters roaming freely back and forth across the Cold Plains: the diminutive forms of Fallen Ones, as well as human shapes that must be corrupted rogues, and to the west she could also see the large outline of a wendigo occupying the road.

(Refer to the overworld maps thread for a full map of the Cold Plains)

The Assassin spotted silhouettes against the background of blue flames. She had seen similar fire in the Rogue Encampment at the Waypoint – it had to be the one placed in Cold Plains. One again she congratulated herself risking the journey through Blood Moors – otherwise she would probably be the target of their attack. What she knew, they weren’t welcoming committee waiting for tourists. Better someone else take them down.

Open space allow Vhalie to have a wide range of view, but it also meant that she was exposed for demons as well. Many of them were moving on the west-south – sadly it was the direction, which she had to take if she wanted to find the Cave. She sighed and took the path for now, but intending to get off the road and continue across the plains before a wendigo would spot her.

The trouble with the plains was that in terms of visibility, it made little difference whether one was on the road or off the road, unless one was willing to crawl on her belly through the tall grass. As long as Vhalie stayed distant, she could hope the wendigo would just assume she was another one of the corrupted rogues. But there was no guarantee. As she drew closer to the crossroads, the wendigo didn't seem to react, still more than a hundred metres distant. But she also soon realized that there was a group of three Fallen wandering through the field between her and the Cave. They were much closer, and soon were looking right at her, raising their spears and scimitars in preparation for a fight.

Vhalie didn’t hesitate knowing that the battle was unavoidable and grabbed her twin blades in both hand. ‘C’mon darlings’ she whispered to herself seeing that three Fallens spotted her. She had fought already their kind and she estimated her chances as rather advantageous for her if nothing unexpected would happen. Quick glance at the wendigo assured her that for a moment she didn’t need to worry about him and she hoped that it wouldn’t change. The Assassin made a few steps towards little demons, intending to finish them as quick as she could.

One bearing a scimitar raised his weapon in the air and squawked a war cry.

Kakabo!

The two others, each carrying a spear, charged at Vhalie, lining up their spears to her belly as they closed the distance to her. The one with the blade followed quickly behind them, ready to slash at her if she managed to avoid being skewered.

The squawking seemed to have attracted others nearby, as little demon heads could be seen popping up from behind some low bushes farther away; four in total, one of which was badly mutilated in the manner of a Carver. Unlike their rape-happy Fallen cousins, Carvers were known to be violent psychopaths who enjoyed carving into their own flesh as well as that of their victims. There are tales of some poor Sisters who had runes carved into their bodies, and they were used for the purpose of casting demonic spells until the dark magic consumed them and they died painful deaths.

Aden sneered as he rummaged through the long abandoned house. It was practically a ruin. Whoever lived here had fled or been killed, either way it didn't matter. There was nothing of any value worth taking here. He knocked over some pots and found a moldy doll that must have belonged to a child. Even a hardened barbarian feels something for a child...Aden looked around the room; a tattered bed, a knocked over bookcase, and smashed furniture. Shaking his head, he stood and took one last look around. "No point in staying here. No enemies to slay or things to loot."

"So far this 'quest' has been a disappointment," he spoke to himself as he walked out of the house. "Besides those little demons there's not much to kill. And they aren't much of a threat."

He raised a hand and squinted towards the sun's dying light. It would be dark soon and he still hadn't found the Rogue's Encampment. If there was one person who could get lost with a map, it was Aden. He ran his hand through his hair and he sighed as he began to walk. "If I keep walking I'm bound to run into something or someone. Maybe a fight worthy of the effort."

Three enemies weren’t very dangerous, but seven rather would be problematic. The Assassin noted that one of demons looked different, like he survived a clash with an angry werebear. She hadn’t seen his kind before, but something told her that he didn’t bring anything good with him. Good thing was that any Shaman appeared with them, so she hoped that killing them once would be enough.

Vhalie came deftly from angle, trying to hit one with a spear before it would manage to change a direction of attack. She stabbed her left blade in his neck, while protecting herself from the one with a scimitar with her right one.

These Fallen were just as easy to kill as the last bunch Vhalie had fought. Her blade found its mark without any trouble, and opened up the throat of that Fallen (named Tor). Tor cried out briefly, "Nyakhh-h-h-h", before blood filled his windpipe and he flopped to the ground. The other spear-wielding Fallen, named Smee, freaked at the sight of Tor's death, and ran for his life in the direction of the road. Likewise, the one with the scimitar, named Ublek, made a half-hearted swing of his weapon, easily parried by Vhalie, and then ran for the safety of his comrades behind him.

The carver, named Riprape, flashed a crazy-eyed stare at Vhalie, his glowing yellow eyes looking even more demonic since they sat atop an open nasal cavity and a full-toothed Soulblighter grin, for want of any lips. As he came out from behind a bush, it was evident that he did not have hands, either, but barbed hooks attached to his wrist-stumps. He was completely naked, and even his dangling blue cock had scars running across it.

Riprape was flanked by two Fallen carrying clubs and shields, named Quat and Putz, and they seemed to have the same type of tactic as the other group of three, whereby the two lesser ones were planning to attack in advance of the more dangerous third warrior.

Before they could advance any closer towards Vhalie, the seventh demon, named Owk, ran up from behind them and hurled a double-edged throwing axe in Vhalie's direction. The axe was roughly the same size as Oki, so that he had to spin himself around once before tossing it, but it was balanced enough to fly straight towards the assassin in a whirl of heavy blades.

Riprape, Quat, and Putz took that as their signal to charge, following in the wake of the flying axe.

(Aden, Have a look at the Overworld Maps thread for an idea of where you are. Travel is done zone by zone, because each zone contains the potential for running into enemies. From here you can go to the North Field, Northeast Field, or Northwest Field)

The house was a dilapidated ruin with missing sections of wall and ceiling, and holes in the floor. Aden found two shattered skeletons on the floor, and some blood stains, indicating that someone had come through here before him. Whoever it was, they were long gone now, and so was any loot that might have been had. Stepping out into the field, the barbarian was made acutely aware of the harsh cold wind that whipped across these plains. It was nothing more severe than he would find back in the mountains, and perhaps was the closest thing to home that he would see in these lowlands. Yet, the conventional wisdom in the mountains is that no matter how hard a man is, he'd best get indoors before the sun sets, and that wisdom ought to hold true on the Cold Plains as well. But Aden still had time to find better accommodations, and there were other structures he could see to the south, that looked much more intact. In addition, there was a camp fire far in the distance, near the bay in the south-east. And beyond those houses and that fire rose the walls of the Burial Grounds, maintained for centuries by the Sisters of the Sightless Eye as a hallowed resting place.

The sinking sun made for long shadows that stalked over the plains. In the distance in all directions, Aden could see the movements of the corrupted rogues, women who had lost sanity under Andariel's influence, and had taken to roving the plains, naked and screaming like banshees, and brandishing the simplest of weapons with which to butcher the innocent.

Much closer to Aden, he could see an abandoned farm to the south-west. To the south-east, his keen vision picked up an unnatural looking shape upon a short hill, that could be a pagan shrine somebody had built. Further beyond that, a flickering blue light indicated the presence of a Waypoint.

Aden's long, messy hair blew in the chilling winds as he scratched his chin trying to decide on a destination. The camp fire could be promising and offered warmth but he was a northman. He was used to the cold and the buildings in the distance would a suitable place to spend the night. It would also give him the chance to explore that strange shrine in the distance and check the larger structures beyond. Then of course he still needed to find the Rogue Encampment and figure out exactly what was going on around here. Hefting his sword, he began the long trek to the building in the southwest. His keen eyes watching moving shapes in the distance just in case they came close he would be ready. Whatever those screaming things were, they were more than likely enemies.

The shrine he had seen was to the east, while the farmstead was to the west. However, as he got closer to the farm, Aden could see the terrain in more detail, and it appeared that there was yet another shrine in this region, too. It wasn't as tall or grandiose as the eastern shrine, but it made up for that failing in being very disgusting. Fresh entrails (presumably from a deer, but one can never be sure) had been piled atop a tree stump, and out of this pile of bloody tissue stuck an array of long pointed quills, taken from the quill rats common to this region. A long stake in the ground held up a stag's head with maggoty eye sockets, that dripped blood down onto the pile of guts and quills below. The cold wind was the only thing preventing the grisly shrine from swarming with flies--in fact it was unnaturally still--and there was a disturbing malignant aura in the air around it that perhaps had been responsible for keeping scavengers away from it. It felt as though the spirit of the slain buck was watching Aden through those maggoty eye-holes, enough to make one's skin feel prickly.

About 100 metres west of the shrine, Aden could see a wooden house, and in front of that house was a large goat pen, demarked by a simple 4' tall wooden fence. The pen was absent of any goats, for it was told that the goats kept in this reason had all transformed into demons when Andariel came, and that they had murdered their human masters before stalking off into the Stony Field further to the west. From a far distance the house had appeared to be abandoned, but in fact Aden could now see movement just outside of it. A very large burly creature, too large to be a man, was walking about in front of the house with a woodsman's axe in his hands. When the creature drew close to the goat pen, Aden could see that he more than doubled its height of the fence.

A few hundred metres to the south, there was what looked like another shrine, where a naked human body was strung up by the wrists against a tall wooden pole, with a circle of large rocks arranged around it. Aden was too far away to make out details, but the body's deathly pale skin stood out starkly against the dark grass and darkening sky of the horizon. Beyond that body, there was the road, where demons seemed to lurk in small clusters of three or four.

"That shrine...wasteful. All that venison could have filled several bellies. Just one more reason to kill these creatures." As he surveyed the landscape he noticed a strung up figure to the south that was either forever in death or at the very least, at it's door. But his eyes quickly snapped to the hulking form near the house he intended to take shelter in for the night. He had heard rumors of the goat men, but had yet to have the pleasure of facing one in combat. He would go see if he could help the figure, but first he would fight what he hoped would be a worthy opponent. He drew his longsword and axe, charging towards the beast with a fearsome roar.

At a running pace, it took several seconds to cover the distance to where the beast was lurking. As he got closer, Aden could see in more detail what he was about to fight. It was a burly broad-shouldered man, nine feet tall, with blood red skin and a single white horn in his forehead. His leathery hide looked slick and wet, as though he had no skin at all, but was made of bloody exposed muscle.

Hearing Aden's roaring, the demon turned to face the charging barbarian, and hefted his axe to meet him, snorting and glaring at him with sunken red eyes that glowed brightly in the fading daylight. He took a few long strides towards Aden on hoof-like feet, and raised his axe in the air above his head. A few seconds later, they were running towards each other, and the demon took a mighty horizontal swing of his axe, timed early to err on the side of knocking aside Aden's weapons.

Aden had been expecting as much and dropped to his knees at the last possible second, barely dodging the brutal axe. The momentum of his run sent him sliding forward thanks to the dew upon the grass and swung his weapons at the beasts legs. Hopefully this would either cripple him or at least piss it off. Either way, Aden could feel it. That special euphoria. The feeling he only got in combat. But it was just an ember, it wasn't enough. He wanted more.

The blades sunk into the demon's legs momentarily before striking his thick shins and glancing off to the side as the demon swivelled his stance away from the strike. The demon snarled and regained his footing square to where Aden's slide had carried him, and he made to bring his axe down overhead upon the barbarian while he was still down on his knees.

From inside the house, a middle-aged woman appeared at the front doorway, pregnant and wearing a ragged brown dress, matted reddish-brown hair draping over her shoulders. The sounds of fighting attracted her, and when she saw the scene, she brandished a hatchet in her hand and yelled, "Get out, you! Don't hurt my son!"

There was a legend in these parts of one of the Sisters of the Sightless Eye who, twenty years ago, sneaked into the catacombs under Tristram looking for a suit of enchanted ring mail called Arkaine's Valor. She did not find what she was looking for, but soon after her return she took with child and left the Sisterhood. It is said she gave birth to a monster so grotesque that she ran away with him into the wilderness to escape the mob that wanted to kill the little demon. Now that the forces of evil have returned, former recluses such as this woman and her Leatherface-like demon son have become emboldened to reclaim their lost home.

The beast regained his footing much quicker than the barbarian thought, combine that with the crazy woman, and his reaction time slowed a bit. He brought up both his weapons to form a cross-guard, but about an inch of the creature's rusty axe sank into his left shoulder. He didn't cry out. He didn't snarl. Aden smiled. It was burning now, fueling him. The pain only augmented this feeling. Blood ran down his bare chest and with a frightening roar that would chill the bones of even this demon, he pushed and burst from the ground with all his might. "Fuck you demon whore! And your son too! I've long awaited a challenge! Show me one!"

Suddenly he was moving both of his weapons in a dazzling flurry. It was a vision of bloody art as he attacked in a frenzied state. Either he was going down or this beast was.

With a supernatural growl, the demon absorbed Aden's strikes upon his thickly-skinned shoulders. His left hand shot out under Aden's head, shoving him back by the chest, and the demon lowered his head until his singular horn was level with the barbarian's body. He lunged forward, intending to ram the human and run him through upon a bony spike.

The woman by the house could do nothing but cheer her demon son on, unwilling to get involved in the fearsome melee.

"HA!" Roared the barbarian with a mixture joy and anger. He had been pushed back and the demon had only been slightly wounded by his attacks, but he was big and predictable. So it was no surprise to Aden when he tried to bulrush him and impale him with his horn. He sidestepped in time to avoid being skewered and brought his axe down towards the beast's head with the intent to decapitate it or at least bring enough force down upon it to make it drive it's own horn into the ground with it's momentum preventing it from stopping.

One of Fallens was dead and his friends flied, but Vhalie was far from relief as another group approached her. That sick bastard didn’t gain more charm when watched from closer distance and she wasn’t very eager to know him better. She had to deal with warlocks of forbidden cults in Kalderum and had some ideas about likes of the Carver. Who sane would look like this?

But she didn’t have time to deliberate about her bad feelings. She spotted flying battle-axe in time to dodge it by rolling on the left. In a moment she was on her knees, ready to stand up in a second, wielding her knives in both hands. Seeing the nearest Fallen charging at her, she treated him with Psychic Hammer.

There was a brief flash of white light in the eyes of one of the Fallen, Quat, and he stopped in his tracks, and flopped face down in the mud, out cold. Putz, beside him, didn't seem to notice, and continued charging at Vhalie with club and shield at the ready. Seeing that she was crouching, he tried to crash into her and knock her over with his shield. Riprape, the Carver in the rear, did notice Quat hit the dirt as if dead. The blue demon showed the same cowardice as his red-skinned kin by turning and scampering back to a patch of bushes. Owk came running at Vhalie next, with a knife in his hand.

Tor and Ublek reached a safe distance and turned around to re-engage.

-- Northwest Field --

The axe cleaved deep into the back of the demon's neck, but trying to decapitate this creature was a bit like trying to decapitate an elephant. The demon roared in pain as he followed through on his charge, pushing his horn through empty air. Black blood spewed up over the blade of Aden's axe and made it stick a little in the open wound. The demon rose up to full height and started flailing his arms around wildly, trying to swat the barbarian without seeing him.

"What did he do to you?!", the demon's mother screeched from farther back as she rushed closer to save her baby.

Leaving his axe buried in the thing's neck, he switch to using a two-handed fighting style with his long sword. The beast was tough, of this there was no doubt, but if it bleeds then it can be killed. The strength of Bul'Kathos filled his voice as he unleashed the power of his Howl. This frightening and unbelievably loud roar would echo within the nearby area and instill fear in those of weak will with evil in their hearts if they heard even a faint cry of this primal power. That should stop the woman and give his full attention to the hulking brute, if it didn't slow him down.

The woman stopped in her tracks and crouched, throwing up her left arm over her face as if to shield herself from the force of Aden's voice. She seemed to stay frozen in that position for a while.

The great demon, thrashing about, focused on the sound and turned to face its point of origin. The demon staggered a bit, clearly wounded greatly by the axe sticking out of the back of his neck, and seemed to have trouble focusing his eyes on Aden. But he had a good general idea of where the barbarian was, and so he lunged forward, making a sweeping downward one-handed chop with his axe, figuring he was bound to at least hit something; if not with the blade than with his arm or the handle. Or if he didn't strike true, he squared up to tackle Aden with his left arm and just use his greater size and weight to crush his enemy into the ground.

It was time to end this. It was getting far too boring. He caught what the creature was trying to do and as the axe swung down, he used his longsword to angle it off to the side where the blade would bury itself in the ground. This would either stop his rush abruptly, making his axe shaft break and spearing him with his own weapon or slow him down enough for Aden to level the sword at him. Either way this beast was about to be impaled.

When the demon felt the blade bury itself into ground instead of meat, he let the weapon leave his hand, intending to kill Aden with his bare hands (and horn). He barrelled into the barbarian, skewering himself on the raised sword. The blade drove deep into his body until the tip poked out the back. Spitting vile black blood all over Aden, the demon's heavy body collapsed over him.

The woman who had been cowering stood up, letting out a loud cry of anguish, and charged at Aden with her hatchet raised above her head.

"Agh, you...big...heavy...bastard." He saw the woman charging at him, apparently his shout's effect had worn off and she was closing the distance. Even his muscled arms strained against this brute's hulking form. She was too close and he wouldn't have time to get out from under this thing. But luckily he saw his axe buried in it's neck. Wrenching it from the foul meat, he flung his axe with practiced grace aiming squarely at the woman's bulky torso.

Just like in the lumberjack competitions on TV, the axe sails end over end through the air until it buries its blade in the center of the woman's chest. Her feet fly out from under her and she flops to the ground, dead. The plains seem suddenly quiet, now that nobody is roaring or screaming or howling, and the wind is all that can be heard as the land grows slowly darker, and the sun's orb disappears behind the distant mountains in the west.

The rising darkness is greeted by distant nazgul-like shrieks of corrupted rogues, taking the change in brightness as their cue to run wild and begin the night's killing.

"Crazy whore," he said quietly as he managed to get out from under the beast and stand. Aden wasn't fond of killing women, maybe he had to kill her; maybe not. But the adrenaline of battle and her appearance as a threat spelled her end. He gathered his weapons and looked around after hearing the shrieks. He was safe for now, but he needed to move. First things first, the rituals must be attended. He smeared some of the creatures blood in strange runes along his arms and then turned to the woman. The demon he would burn, risking the light, but the woman was a human or at least had been once. He lit the beast's corpse and dug a shallow grave for the woman with his bare hands next to the house. She had been pregnant, with demon or no, Aden couldn't help but feel sympathy for the unborn child. In truth he had always held different views of demons. What if they were just like us? Had feelings or were forced to fight? Some of them enjoyed evil for evil's sake, but nothing was black and white. Are there good demons just like there are evil humans? Now wasn't the time to dwell on it. He looked to the southwest. It was time to see what lay within the Burial Grounds.

The demon had been chopping wood with that axe of his, leaving a ready supply of fuel for a pyre, but Aden would also need to find something more readily combustible to start the fire with, and he would need to construct a means of sheltering it from the wind so that it would light. The smell of boiling meat wafted from within the house, where the woman must have been cooking dinner, suggesting there was some ready-made fire there for him to use (and also suggesting that if he left the house and came back later, he might find it up in flames). He might also find a shovel in there so he wouldn't have to dig a grave with his hands; a task that will probably be interrupted by wandering demons before he can finish. For some time, the presence of the massive horned demon had kept the smaller demons of the Cold Plains from wandering too close to this house, but eventually the denizens of the plains would discover that the creature they feared was no more, and they would come sniffing around for spoils to scavenge.

(I think that Psychic Hammer could knock out lighter enemies and temporary stun larger. Or lesser demons could suffer brain damages from it.)

Vhalie jumped from her knees to the stand and made use of the momentum kicked the Fallen with a shield from a roundhouse like Chuck Norris. She hoped that it would stop his for a moment, so she could deal with the one with a knife. Demons had numerical superiority, but their cowardice was their weak point. The Assassin came to the conclusion that if she act more aggressive she should intimidate them enough to win the battle.

Putz definitely did not see the roundhouse kick coming. He squawked in surprise before falling on his side, where he struggled to get back up. She had a split second to kill the knife wielding Fallen, Owk, before he would stab her.

Tor and Ublek were now closing in on her, and she could hear the sounds of movement and chattering in the demon language coming from the direction of the cave entrance. More demons were coming, attracted to the sounds of battle.

(Here's a little ascii sketch of the battle. Enemies marked by the letters O to U. Remember that Quat and Smee are dead, and Putz is on the ground. The (!!!) is where the noises of other demons is coming from)

The Cold Plains- Ranna reflected -Are quite aptly named. The wind that hissed in the grass and whispered against the smooth stones scattered across the earth exacerbated the chill in the air and gently lifted her short black hair with it's touch. It seemed the closer she got to the Rogues' Monestary she had set out for the more dangerous the land got. Fallen and Undead roaming freely, along with what seemed to be twisted parodies of the brave women of the convent. Had the monestary been attacked and some rogues taken prisoner for corruption? She had made it by so far with stealth and more than a little bit of good luck but with the plains stretching out before her she could see that the wandering groups seemed to be getting thicker. Soon, stealth wouldn't be enough.

The house... Ranna breathed a sigh and set off again, nervously touching the dagger at her hip. The seemingly abandoned stead would hardly be her first choice for a resting place but she knew of no towns so close to the monestary. Hopefully it would at least have a door for her to barricade against potential threats and a cot she could curl up on for a few hours before she pressed on. The monestary was close now, hopefully she would find some true rogues sooner or later.

The house in fact did not have a door. Whole sections of wall and ceiling were missing. But it had two mostly intact rooms, which seemed to be a kitchen and a bedroom. The kitchen had a massive hole in the floor, and Ranna could hear the scratching of quill rats beneath the floor boards munching on a pile of bones down there. The bedroom was littered with human bones and a rusted old hand axe, but it was sheltered from the wind, and could be considered safe to rest in, if she could barricade the open doorway and the broken wall in the northwest corner. Dry blood stains on the floor suggested that someone had been here recently, but not too recently.

A wooden frame against the wall of the bedroom marked where there once was a bed. Rats or other creatures must have eaten away the mattress, leaving only the frame behind. There was also a small closet, completely bare.

(Here's a map of the house for reference. Bedroom is top-left, kitchen is top-right. The bottom room is a living room where the ceiling has collapsed) ───┬── ─┐│ │ ││ │ ├── ─┴─ ──┤ ││ ││ └────── ─┘

The house looked much worse as Ranna circled around it, fresh angles of view bringing the caved-in roof and partially crumbled walls to her attention. Still she approached, finding that while the main room of the house was in complete shambles, the bedroom seemed relatively intact.

Well... 'Intact' for the value of 'having walls yet standing and roof still overhead rather than underfoot' anyways.

The bones and axe worried her but to her slight surprise they did not animate right away and so she swept them out the doorway into the living room before hunting about for timber. The only furniture seemed to be the bedframe and while she had initially thought to push that up against the door as one part of a barricade she would need more materials to plug the whole in the wall as well.

Raw materials were easy to find among the rubble where a roof once was. And some of the walls, too, were wrecked enough that boards could be removed from them with some effort. There was also some furniture in the main room--a table and some broken chairs--that could be recycled. The trouble is that the interior of this house had been exposed to the elements for some time, including frequent rain common to these lowlands, and much of the wood is weak and rotting. Even the floorboards of the main room creak dangerously underfoot, as though they will give way any moment if Ranna continues walking back and forth through the area.

When she returned to the bedroom with arms full of timber, there was something there that hadn't been before. Just outside the break in the wall at the corner of the room, a naked woman was standing in the darkness outside, staring into the room with freaky red eyes. Mud and bruises covered her body, but she didn't shiver at all when the cold wind blasted her; instead, she seemed quite comfortable. Her gaze locked on Ranna, and she let out a sharp nazgul shriek.

The impetus of knocking the enemy over made Vhalie to make a step back to keep her balance. With a corner of an eye she saw demon’s knife aimed at her and involuntarily blocked it with her own dagger – fast enough to prevent serious damages, but the blade tore her sleeve, scratching her forearm. Two knives collided with a grind, when the Assassin tried to push back the Fallen to attack him with her second weapon. The sounds of forthcoming demonic succors weren’t good news.

The demon had been chopping wood with that axe of his, leaving a ready supply of fuel for a pyre, but Aden would also need to find something more readily combustible to start the fire with. The smell of boiling meat wafted from within the house, where the woman must have been cooking dinner, suggesting there was some ready-made fire there for him to use. He moved inside to grab some of the readily burning wood and found a shovel as well. The barbarian didn't particularly care about trying to shield the flame from the wind or building such a grand pyre for the foul beast, so he haphazardly tossed the wood and lit it; kicking the thing's head far away. He went to work digging the grave, carefully burying the woman and not thinking about it too hard. After the deed was done, he began to make his way forward towards the Burial Grounds.

The Fallen warrior surged with excitement at the sight of Vhalie's blood, surprised that he was able to land a hit. Emboldened, he tried to press his advantage to strike her again, but he ran chest-first into her second knife and was cut open. Squawking in pain, he flopped to the ground.

Putz used this time to scamper away from Vhalie and get back on his feet, at which point he turned around to face her. Tor and Ublek saw Owk fall, and abandoned their attack, seeking a safer position farther away from the assassin. There, they rallied with Riprape, who pointed his meat hooks at Vhalie and squealed for the two Fallen to charge alongside him. Ublek raised his scimitar above his head, chanting some kind of demon prayer, while Tor cowered behind the point of his spear.

Then there was a low noise, and a golden light formed around the dead Fallen, Smee, and Smee began to move his hands and look around. About fifty metres away, a shaman was approaching, brandishing his skull-tipped staff in the air and making quacking noises. Continuing the alphabet tradition, I'll name this shaman Njorl. This is Njorl's saga.

-- Northwest Field --

Inside the house, there had been a pot suspended over the stove where a human head and pair of feet were boiling. And suspended on the wall above a wooden chest was a hunter's bow of the style used by the Sisterhood. In Aden's search for a shovel, he had heard some shuffling noises from an adjacent room, and the jingle of metal being moved.

Ignoring all that, the fire burned weakly at first, but eventually lit up once the chopped wood began to catch. The demon's massive body didn't seem to burn too well, and instead just gave off a foul noxious smoke, like a plastic toy made in China. Aden got to shovelling, and about fifteen minutes into digging the grave, he heard footsteps drawing near. Over his shoulder, he could see two women approaching, drawn by the sight of the fire. As they got close, they broke into a full sprint, brandishing crude weapons.

This one was carrying a six inch hunting knife in a backhanded grip and raised above her shoulder:

This one was holding a pickaxe in both hands, and hefting it in the air to get ready to strike with it:

Further behind them, the sounds of heavy animal breathing announced the arrival of a wendigo, moving a bit slower than the more agile corrupted women.

When she returned to the bedroom with arms full of timber, there was something there that hadn't been before. Just outside the break in the wall at the corner of the room, a naked woman was standing in the darkness outside, staring into the room with freaky red eyes. Mud and bruises covered her body, but she didn't shiver at all when the cold wind blasted her; instead, she seemed quite comfortable. Her gaze locked on Ranna, and she let out a sharp nazgul shriek.

--Far North Field--

Ranna froze, nearly dropping the timber as her blue eyes met those malevolent red ones. Everything about the woman screamed unnaturalness at her and when the woman actually screamed Ranna gave up on holding up the logs entirely. Whatever it might appear to be, that thing's scream wasn't even remotely human, she might be a demon in human guise, a corrupted woman, undead...

Whatever she was, Ranna wasn't so tired as to be unable to cast and she wasted no time in doing so, cold energy gathering about the fingertips of her left hand as she flung a bolt of frost at the woman. She palmed her dagger in her right hand, delicately testing the blade with her thumb before she stilled again with the realization that that scream could easily have drawn any number of the packs of monsters she'd seen to the cottage. It would be safer for her to get out of here...

Seeing the bolt of cold magic coming, the corrupted woman ducked away from the hole in the wall, disappearing from view as the icy projectile sailed off slowly into the night. There was a tense moment where she did not reappear at the hole, until the silence was broken by the sound of fast heavy footsteps on the wooden floorboards in the hallway just outside the room where Ranna was standing. The demonic woman seemed to have found the house's entrance, and was on her way to greet Ranna up close and personal.

the way point selected soulz for transport before the other rogues, Soulz took this opportunity to give his skeletons their pep talk. "alright, Lucy, Shambles, Bonehead. line up. good now remember... " he folded his arms behind his back and pace leisurely back and forth infront of his assembled skeletons. "remember, the demons and the fallen, they are the enemy, it is your duty to waste them. I know you are all scared... well strike that, your guys are dead what do you care. the point is they are more scared of you than you are of them, so by all means, use that, go completely psycho out there! rip them to pieces, if a zombie bites you, bite them the the fuck back! I wanna see some creativity in how you kill them, like Lucky! you beat a fallen to death with its own legs when it was trying to crawl away. that was funny! that's the type of shit I am looking for today, Make me proud! also, Shambles, your mercantile skills are bad, I want you to know this... now got fourth and kill things!" he said gesturing veguey as the completely expressionless skeletons suddenly burst into action racing around in erractic directions for things to kill.

Soulz smiled and pulled out his book again as he Walked casually through the cold plains, humming the song of his old brethren in the Charon Order, what did they call it, oh yeah. he grinned "bad to the bone..."

The waypoint filled Soulz' vision with a flash of bright light, and as it cleared the tents and fire light and wooden stakes of the Rogue Encampment had been replaced by pitch black grass extending out in all directions, with filtered moonlight streaming through the dark clouds overhead, allowing him to see very little detail, except in the things that were closest to him. A horrible high pitched shriek greeted his ears upon arrival, matched by two other shrieks of like quality. Three women were standing within arm's reach of the necromancer, screaming into his ears. They were completely naked, and covered in dirt. Their eyes glowed red, and they each carried some crude weapon in their hands.

This one carried a ten foot length of rope with a heavy iron hook tied to one end:

This one had a hatchet in her hand:

This one carried a four-foot wooden walking stick (a shillelagh) that she held like a club, and it had a nail driven through the wide end of it:

There was also the ghostly pale corpse of a middle-aged red haired woman on the ground nearby. Some inconsiderate person had left these enemies crowded around the waypoint, to the potential ruin of any poor soul experiencing lag while loading the new area. Before Soulz could even get his bearings, the belligerent women started attacking his skeletons. The skinny girl with the hatchet took a swing at the side of Lucy's skull. The blonde girl with the club raised her weapon above her head with both hands and tried to bury the spike somewhere in the grinning face of Shambles. The larger woman with the rope and hook stood in front of Bonehead and started swinging the hook end of the rope in a wide circle over her head with her right hand. She needed this half-second wind up before she could strike with it, but she was ready to use the short end of the rope, held taut by her left hand, to defend herself if Bonehead was quick enough to pre-emptively attack her.

Fuck thought Vhalie. A chill went through her body where someone very close used magic. Judging from the situation she actually was, it was very unlike that it came from an ally. She didn’t need to watch – the itching on her skin told her that a Shaman came to help his kin.

She used her time when Putz was getting on his feet again to approach him and kicked his head before he took his shield again. The Shaman managed to revive one of demons she had already killed and Vhalie was aware that until he would be alive, her efforts would be futile. He was too far for her to try using one of her Assassin tricks. She had to close distance, so she evaded Fallens’ dead bodies and run in his direction.

Putz squawked and flopped onto his back when Vhalie kicked him in the head. It would take him some more time to get back up again. As Vhalie dashed towards the approaching shaman, the shaman worked his magic again to raise Quat from the dead. Quat started to push himself to his feet and collect his club and shield from the ground. Smee, having gotten to his feet, saw Vhalie running past, and he gave chase, though he couldn't match her speed with his short legs.

Vhalie could see that there were more enemies coming up from behind where the shaman Njorl was. Two more fallen warriors, Mao and Lek, were advancing, and between them was a corrupted rogue, Kali. The two fallen warriors each carried a club in one hand and a torch in the other hand, while the corrupted rogue was swinging a length of chain.

Tor, Ublek, and Riprape began chasing after Vhalie as well, linking up with Smee to form a close formation.

Larisa and Alisa warp into the middle of a battle between corrupted rogues and skeletons. Larisa finds herself standing between Lucy and Bonehead, who are battling the skinny girl (named Kathryn) and the beefy woman (named Angelique). Alisa finds herself standing between Bonehead and Shambles, with the short blonde girl (named Amy) almost face to face with Alisa. The rogues may remember Angelique from the monastery (a strong hand-to-hand fighter, thought to have been killed by demons during the exodus), but the other two faces are unfamiliar, probably local peasants.

Wait for Soulz and his skeletons to act first, then Larisa and Alisa will be able to join the fight. You can thank his skeletons for taking the first hits so that none of the humans were in a position to be sucker-punched while they were still getting their bearings.

Soulz had to rub his eyes to recover for flash, god he hated these way points. then the screams. What the fuck?! Soulz had to cover his ears.

thankfully the skeletons had not eyes to blind, nor no ears to hurt, on the other hand, they were also complete psychos.

Lucy reacted on instinct, its hand snatching the woman's forearms in mid-swing and grinding its phalanges into and painful death grip. the skeleton turned, grabbi9ng her upper arm in a similar grip before the violently bending the attacker's arm in a splintering angle most bone should not bend. the skeletons strength being powered by the energy sustaining it.

Shambles took the full force of the club to the face, though the skeleton only flinched a little, then blonde struggled to pull the club back, the skeleton's jaws clamped down on the spike. the skeleton reached for a scroll in his rib cage and thrust into the woman's face.

the note read:"no sale"

to boney fingers followed the paper hard, skewering though the paper, and the eyes of the corrupted rogue.

Bonehead, who for lack of the better term had "problems" and wasted no time in charging the woman with the hook on the chain. he tackled her to the ground and in a psychotic frenzy started to claw and rake its fingers over her face.

Kathryn bent over as her harm was yanked by the skeleton named Lucy. These corrupted women seemed to be fairly resistant to pain, but not immune. The girl screams and hammers at Lucy's elbow with her left fist, trying to break free of her grasp.

Amy put her foot on Shambles' ribcage, and wrenched her club out from between its jaws. When its fingers came for her, she weaved her head backward to avoid the attack. Her feet followed, backpedalling until she was a few paces away from Shambles, so she could try to attack again.

Angelique was more difficult to tackle than expected. She wrapped her rope around Bonehead's neck-bone, and grappled with him standing, trying to shove him to the side. Normally she'd try to strangle her target this way, but against a skeleton the closest thing she could try to do is pry its head loose from its shoulders.

Lucy didn't seem to care as the women beat aginst its arm. the skeleton release her upper hand grabbed her face in a similar vice-like grip, while its free hand casually wrenched the hatchet from her broken arm and held her head in place as it started hacking at the base of her neck.

Shambles's fingers were thrust through the note, bu not through the tender eyes it was expecting. Shambles watched the corrupted rogue double back and charged at her and and hard tackle, its sharp fingers closing on her throat.

Bonehead didn't knock the bigger woman over, but at the cost of her mechanical advantage her own peril kept the undead psycho close. as she tried to crush bone with rope, Bonehead grabbed either side of her head, planting its thumbs into her eyes and digging them deep as the skeleton's fingers started to crush into her face.

Soulz managed to recover form the shock of the waypoint, and saw the brawl between his skeletons and three psycho women. Soulz sighed and unbound his iron mace and strolled into the fray.

Larisa needed a second to see the situation and she didn’t like what she saw. At first she thought that skeletons are teamed with corrupted warriors and prepared to defend herself against them, but then they attacked cursed women. She was far to call them friendly, but at least it appeared that she shouldn’t bother with them for a while. A grimace went through her face when she spotted Soulz.

From so close distance she wasn’t able to make use of her favorite weapon, so she took a dagger and stick it in a chest of the skinny woman held by Lucy.

=Vhalie=

She was in trouble, no doubt in this, but she was still far from giving up. Vhalie could hear squeaking of Fallens behind – she didn’t need to watch to guess that they followed her. At the beginning of the battle she would probably defeat them though preponderance, but after the Shaman appeared she didn’t see other way to try kill him and rely on innate cowardice of red demons. With full speed she approached the mage and when she reached required distance she launched another Hammer. She had knives in both hands in the case she would have to finish him off before another group join him.

Seeing the bolt of cold magic coming, the corrupted woman ducked away from the hole in the wall, disappearing from view as the icy projectile sailed off slowly into the night. There was a tense moment where she did not reappear at the hole, until the silence was broken by the sound of fast heavy footsteps on the wooden floorboards in the hallway just outside the room where Ranna was standing. The demonic woman seemed to have found the house's entrance, and was on her way to greet Ranna up close and personal.

--Far North Field--

Ranna halted as the woman pulled away, vanishing into the night, her fingers still crooked in a spellcasting gesture as she hesitated between advancing on the hole in the wall and retreating. Only the sound on the floorboards alerted her and she twisted, scattering little balls of lightning that danced and spun through the air with a sweep of her arm, hoping to confuse the woman's quick reflexes with the fast and randomly-moving attacks. She was starting to feel the drain on her mana now, another three, maybe four spells would see her turning to blood to power her attacks. Gripping the dagger in her hand a little more tightly she tensed, waiting for the woman to appear in the doorway and lunging with the dagger as she did so, a feint that would cover the frostbolt she incanted to intercept the woman if she dodged away. She had to finish this quickly.

The insane woman came around the corner, walking right through one of the charged bolts that Ranna had flung out. Her muscles seized, and she made an awkward twitch of her head and shoulders, along with an echoing grunt, but she kept moving forward. When Ranna made her feint with the dagger, the corrupted woman just reached out with both arms to grasp at her shoulders like a zombie. The frost bolt, however, stopped her. Her skin turned blue from hypothermia, and she collapsed onto the floor in a pile. A ghostly blue mist escaped from her as she fell, which quickly dispersed into nothing.

-- Crossroads --

The shaman Njorl brought up his staff to defend himself against what he thought was going to be a charging attack from Vhalie's knives. The psychic hammer caught him by surprise, and he collapsed with a sputter. The nearby Fallen ones, and their Carver friend, all turned tail and backed off in their respective directions. Only the corrupted rogue, Kali, came forward to challenge Vhalie. Swirling her chain over her head as she ran forward, she quickly closed the distance between them and swung one end of the chain out at Vhalie, trying to strike her across the midsection while she made crazy eyes at the assassin.

-- Waypoint --

(I was waiting for Minato to post something, but we can say Alicia was dazed for the last few seconds)

Kathryn struggled in vain as Lucy took control of her hatchet. The first strikes were partially blocked by Kathryn's left arm, and they only hacked part way into her neck muscle. The third and fourth strikes cut deep enough to kill, though failed to fully sever the head. In combination with this, Larisa's stabbing of the girl's chest only hastened the end result. The ghostly blue mist that was the demonic presence corrupting the girl evaporated into the air above her, and her corpse went limp in Lucy's grasp.

Angelique instinctively pulled her head back away from the bony hands that were trying to gouge her eyes. She dropped her rope and grabbed Bonehead's wrists to keep them from piercing her face grievously. Digging in her heels, she tried to use her superior weight to throw the skeleton off to the side.

Amy, small and quick, deftly jumped away from Shambles as he tried to tackle her. She found the rogue, Alicia, who was still dazed from the teleport, and got behind her, trying to use her as a human shield against Shambles.

(I've been in a daze lately, I'm back to planet earth with intentions to post, I didn't mind at all.)

When Alisa emerged from the waypoint, it took time, mostly from not having used a waypoint in her entire life. Thus, the shock and disorientation led her to be quite open, to which the environment took note of. The sudden grip of her body from something...feminine made her word out "Captain" only to turn around to see that it was far from the case, finally getting to her senses. "Oh shi-" she uttered, locking eyes with what's going on, trying to desperately escape the clutches of the corrupted rogue that used her for a shield, hoping to dodge roll in hopes of avoiding the charge that came through by the incoming skeleton, Shambles.

Lucy could sense the corrupted rogue was quite dead now and casually let the nearly headless body drop before lifting up her broken arm and hacking it off at the shoulder, acquiring a sort of flesh nunchaku. The skeleton, both weapons in hand started advancing on the large woman fighting with Bonehead.

Shambles started to lunge after its prey, even as she grabbed the other girl, the skeleton continued to charge, and then suddenly stop a good two arms lengths away. An iron mace with the back of Amy's skull as Soulz boldly stepped over Amy to support the startled Alisa. "'Silent as the dead"' the necromancer said with a his mace of his shoulder. "you okay?" he asked Alisa. Shambled shrugged and looked for someone else to kill.

Bonehead reacted to her grabbing its arms, and grabbed her int turn, it hard boney finger digging into her flesh with merciless force as she tried to throw the skeleton off, only succeeding in rending the flesh from her fore arms.

Ranna's relief at seeing the woman collapse and some stuff that she supposed might be her spirit leave her marking her demise was cut short as she awkwardly tried to twist out of her lunge and succeeded only in smacking her elbow against the doorframe purely on accident. "Owww..." She muttered, rubbing at the smarting joint as she delicately pushed her dagger home again only to recall her earlier thought. A barricade wouldn't really matter if that woman's shriek had carried to any of the monsters she'd seen wandering in the distance and it had been awfully loud. She stood there a moment before realizing that the house probably wouldn't be any safer than the field if more than one demon showed up, the walls might even be a liability for that matter, making her easier to trap for a smaller number of opponents.

"Pox." She muttered, the realization finally stirring her into action as she made her way towards the hole in the wall. Her mana was slowly regenerating but without any affinity for fire it would take far longer for her to get back even a single one of the three spells she'd cast in that fight. The hole in the wall was narrow and her dress caught a couple of times but it only took a minute for Ranna to work her way out of it and set off again, grumbling under her breath as she made her way south and east. (Towards NEF)

Wretched creature met her end, so Larisa could deal with another target. She saw that Soulz took care about Alisa – she looked like first travel by the Waypoint wasn’t the most pleasant experience, but beside this she was alright. She turned then to the biggest enemy, which looked quite familiar to her. In a flash of enlighten she connected corrupted rogue to face of one of fellow Sisters, who had been missed long time ago. Angelique was her name. Once brave warrior, she was now caricature of her old self. Larisa’s duty was to put her pitiful existence to the end.

Seeing that former rogue was busy with battling two skeletons, she went behind her and stabbed her in her back.

=Vhalie=

Shaman fell out of business, at least for a moment, and his little friends ran away. Vhalie didn’t delude herself that they flee for good – they surely would come back, seeking revenge for what she did. After demonic mage was beaten, she had to deal with the second most dangerous enemy – the mad woman had to be one called „corrupted rogues” by people in camp. The Assassin only wished that the beast she saw before wouldn’t decide to join the party too.

Vhalie expected rogue to try to take advance from the chains length, so she decided to make the chances even. Avoiding a hit she quickly crouched and kicked her legs, intending to knock her to the ground.

Ranna could hear fighting elsewhere in the plains. There was a man howling far to the west, and more corrupted women screeching in the south. The northeast field had a slight hill that blocked Ranna's view until she could crest it. Atop this hill was some sort of pagan shrine. A human skull rested atop a five foot vertical wooden stake. Two diagonal stakes supported the vertical one, and moose antlers had been affixed to them with rope, so that they seemed to come out from the sides of the skull. At the base of the stakes, there was a plank of wood resting on stones about six inches off the ground. A human ribcage had been lashed to the centre of the plank with green vines, and within the ribcage there was a severed hand, torn off at the wrist. The hand had been there for a while, as it was no longer bleeding, but it had not begun to decay at all. In the palm, there was a silver token with markings on it in the design of an all-seeing eye. There was a circle of stones around the base of the shrine, three feet in diameter, and within the circle all the grass had been burnt away. In the brief streams of moonlight that occasionally broke through the cloud cover, Ranna could see that blood had been painted upon the burned grass to form a rune commonly used in summoning rituals.

Further south, about two hundred metres, there was fighting visible. Several humanoid creatures were involved, but it was tough to make out details in the darkness. Their motions were illuminated only by the flickering blue flames that surround the Waypoint.

-- Waypoint --

Amy did not at all see Soulz coming. Striking her head was all too easy, and she fell promptly to the ground with her skull caved in. The wispy blue essence left her body mid-fall, and faded into the night. Angelique screeched in pain as Bonehead's sharp fingertips dug into her wrists. Larisa's knife plunged into the corrupted rogue's back, and she dropped to her knees, her breath taken away from her. Blood began to flow from her mouth and drool down her chin, but she wasn't dead just yet.

-- Crossroads --

The corrupted rogue Kali stumbled back, but stayed on her feet. In order to avoid the chain, Vhalie had to go down a bit too far away to make full force with her kick. Kali regained her balance, and with a huff, tried to swing her chain overhead and down upon the assassin. Kali's two Fallen escorts, Mao and Lek, were the first to turn around and contemplate backing up their mutual ladyfriend.

As the fight went on, the moonlight dimmed behind thicker darker clouds, and a few random drops of rain began to fall upon Vhalie's shoulder and hand.

Soulz had his arm around Alisa's waist and his arm his mace over her shoulder. "you okay?" he asked the girl. letting his skeletons finished their slaughter. he noticed sexy Larisa and grinned, clicking his tongue at her with a wink.

Lucy and Shambles took flanking positions, enclosing on the remaining corrupted rogue. feeling her strength lessen for a moment, Bonehead locked his fingers between the bonesof her wrists and held her arms out wide. skeletal hands grabbed either arm in vice-like grips and started to pull. her arms at bay, Bonehead released her wrists and took hold of her face, bracing its thumbs behind her head and digging its middle and thumb fingers into her eyes as the other skeletons pulled at her arms.

The sounds of combat and more of those demented shrieks set Ranna moving at a swift pace that slowed only as the shrine loomed out of the gathering darkness. Her weariness may have been temporarily banished by the adrenaline of the fight but the onset of night made it difficult for her mortal eyes to see anything until it was practically on top of her. She slowed to a halt at the edge of the circle of burned earth and peered at the shrine, taking in the somewhat disturbing vision, a grisly assemblage of body parts and bones. The smell of blood was on the wind and it beckoned her forwards but she quelled the urge to step any closer to the shrine as the moonlight revealed the summoning circle painted to the earth.

The magic was dark and stank of corruption but at the same time it was so very familiar. She knew the symbols that had been painted on the earth, she had seen them in those books, and while she might not have been able to paint them herself with her level of expertise she knew what they represented.

A summoning circle...

Ranna shuddered, the lure of the power in the blood warred with the relative purity of her soul, making her nauseated and weak as her body fought with itself. She needed to get away. Stumbling back from the shrine and turning her senses outwards Ranna became aware of the sounds of combat again and this time could see the figures warring amongst each other. There, silhouetted in flickering blue light, figures moving, grappling... Ranna jumped with surprise as that same greenish-white essence flared into the air, another one of those corrupted rogues falling, she supposed. Galvanized by the prospect of someone friendly (or at least less likely to kill or rape her), Ranna took off at a jog towards the blue light and the noise of battle.

Angelique was unable to offer any resistance. Bonehead's thumbs pressed into the corrupted rogue's eyes, and the ghostly essence escaped out those same holes and into the air, and she was dead.

The clouds grew darker, and drops of rain were beginning to fall here and there about the Waypoint, blown eastward by gusts of wind that picked up with irregular rhythm. Another storm was blowing in.

Not far to the southwest, beyond the road, there were signs of movement, and the sounds of someone fighting. The light from two torches danced in the darkness, and the squawks of Fallen Ones could be heard.

Far to the west, there was the light of another fire. It had burned dimly at first, but was now starting to flare up more brightly.

Much farther to the south, more than a kilometre away, several large fires were visible, scattered across the plains near the Burial Grounds. The Cold Plains seem to really come alive at night.

Larisa took a moment to look at Angelique’s dead body. Her miserable remains were a warning about what would happen with every rogue, who would allow to be corrupted by evil forces. At least her torment ended.

‘May the Sightless Eye would be forgiving for you, Sister’ she muttered and came to Alisa and Soulz. A Nercromancer? she thought. Well, she shouldn’t be surprised – man strange adventurers had appeared in the Camp recently. She was lucky that he had only skeletons on his services and hadn’t funny ideas of inviting his minions in her tent.

‘Thank you for help’ she said with formal tone, without any sign of liking. She decided to pretend that she had never seen him before. ‘Now let’s to the Burial Grounds’ Larisa addressed to Alisa.=Vhalie=

Her trick failed this time, but at least wasn’t hit. Sadly she didn’t stand up quick enough to avoid a second attack – she only covered herself by left hand and a chain entwined around her forearm. Sharp pain was like fire – Vhalie dropped her knife, but managed to grab a chain and pull it, trying to draw the corrupted rogue closer, so she could make use of her second dagger.